Somewhere Over the Mountain
by viola555
Summary: After interviewing a victim's family, McGee and DiNozzo are in danger.  The rest of the team races to beat those who are hunting down Tony and Tim to finish the job.
1. Chapter 1

_Tuesday. 1435 hours_

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!"

Abby was screaming as she ran towards Special Agent Gibbs' desk. Gibbs jumped out of his chair and grabbed the forensic specialist by her shoulders. He looked at Abby's tear-stained cheeks and gently put his left hand on her face. Abby was shaking her cell phone at Gibbs.

"Abby, what's wrong," he gently asked her. Soothing tones were the best way to calm someone who was on the edge of hysterics. Gibbs caught Agent Ziva David out of his peripheral vision coming up behind him. Ziva stood to Abby's left and put a reassuring hand on her forearm.

Abby closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then looked Gibbs square in the eye.

"It's McGee and Tony. I think they're dead!"

_Earlier that day. 0800 hours_

Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs addressed his team from the center of the work area. "What have we got so far? McGee?"

Agent Timothy McGee took the remote for the screen and pressed the controls. A Navy personnel file appeared. "The victim's name is Petty Officer Mark Richards. He was on shore leave from the _USS Seahawk_. His record is clean except for a night in the brig after too much partying while docked in Greece last summer."

Gibbs noticed the eye roll from Agent Anthony DiNozzo at the mention of the Seahawk. His brief assignment there was not one of Tony's fondest memories.

Ziva spoke next. "He was married 18 months ago, one week before his deployment. His wife and his 9 month old child were living at Norfolk up until 2 weeks ago."

Gibbs asked, "Where'd they go?"

"Apparently, his wife…" Tony paused to glance at his notes, "one Sheila McCord Richards has been living with her father in Bransville, Virginia. It's a little one horse town in the Shenandoah mountains."

McGee changed the window on the screen. There was a split screen image of a young woman and a middle-aged man. The woman was Mrs. Mark Richards. She was a petite brunette with a winning smile. The picture looked to be a portrait taken at one of those box store studios where the package of 15 photos was just $24.95. The man's photo on the right side of the screen caught Gibbs' attention the most as he recognized the face: Lt. Colonel Calvin McCord. Retired.

Tony said, "It seems that the Petty Officer was attacked outside the bus station after he had purchased a bus ticket to Staunton, Virginia. Looks like he was trying to get home to see his family."

"Any witnesses," Gibbs asked.

Ziva answered. "Two of his shipmates are scheduled to be interviewed this morning. They are to be here in one hour. Their commanding officer will be accompanying them."

"Uh, boss, we tried calling the McCord home," began McGee. "Apparently, there was an ice storm Sunday evening and the phone and power companies are trying to restore service to about 500 customers. Because of the terrain and older infrastructure of their equipment they do not have a time frame on when power and phone service will be restored."

Gibbs walked back to his desk. "Won't the family be coming here to make arrangements?"

"Of that we are not sure they are even aware of the petty officer's death," Ziva offered.

Gibbs looked once more at the picture of Col. McCord. He did not envy anyone who would be bringing bad news to that bastard. He had one too many run-ins with Col. McCord and dreaded having to deal with him again. "Well, find out, for sure!" he barked. The three agents headed back to their desks, while Gibbs shoved himself away from his desk and headed to the elevator.

_0814 Hours_

"I believe our young petty officer is the victim of an execution, Jethro." Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Ducky Mallard leaned over the body of Mark Richards. Gibbs stood opposite him and waited for his friend and colleague to continue. He knew Ducky would get to the point eventually.

"What makes you say that, Ducky," Gibbs asked.

Ducky motioned to the cadaver's wrists. "See these marks, Jethro. I believe they indicate the young man's hands were restrained and he struggled against the bonds. The restraints were metal evidenced by the depth and characteristics of the cuts."

"Handcuffs?" Gibbs asked.

"Possibly," Ducky answered. "He was then shot execution style in the back of the head." He gestured for Gibbs to follow him to the x-rays arranged on the lit panel on the wall. He pointed out where the bullet had been lodged. One x-ray showed the bullet still in place and the other after it had been extracted. "From the angle of the bullet, I would guess that he had been forced to his knees while the executioner stood about 1 foot away from Mr. Richards. Mr. Palmer has taken the bullet to Miss Sciuto."

"Let me know if you find anything else, Ducky."

_0817 Hours_

Music blared as Gibbs entered Abby's domain. He didn't understand how anyone could work with that noise at a normal audible level, let alone the decibels that Abby preferred. When she failed to answer to her name being called, he turned to the stereo and hit the power button. Abby turned to face him from in front of her computer screen.

"Gibbs, you have no appreciation for a person's individual work environment. I think better when my music…"

"Is destroying your hearing?" Gibbs cut her off. He walked over to look over her shoulder. She smiled at her boss and friend, knowing he would turn the music back on for her once they had their confab.

"What have you got, Abbs?"

Abby pulled up the ballistics data and the pictures showing the details. She had not been able to pull up anything from the files on the bullet they had found in Mark Richards' body. She explained to Gibbs that she would keep working on it but there wasn't much to go on. Then she went to pull out some the data from the mass spectrometer as the cycle had completed.

"Oooo, look at this, Gibbs." She placed the readout in front of him, waiting for a reaction. Gibbs looked at her with a blank face and then back at the paper. "What am I looking at, Abby," he tried to keep the edge out of his voice. Abby Sciuto was one of his favorite people; like a daughter. He would never talk to her the way he did Ziva, Tim and Tony. He didn't need to.

Abby explained that she had found fibers on the victim's uniform that indicated that at least two people had been in extremely close contact with him. She also had found evidence of 2 different people through blood samples found at the scene. One she identified as belonging to Richards.

"But here's the really interesting discovery I made," Abby grinned. "I found traces of a special ink on this piece of paper that was in his pants pocket." She held up a piece of paper that was slightly bigger than a postage stamp.

Gibbs asked, "What kind of ink is it?"

Abby went back to her computer and brought up a new window. As she went back through her history, Gibbs could see that she had done a Google search of "disappearing inks" and then he saw a page of descriptions and examples of writing.

"Disappearing ink," Abby said. "But this disappearing ink is only made in Istanbul, Turkey. Ta dah!"

Gibbs reached over and planted a kiss on Abby's cheek. "Thanks, Abbs." He headed towards the door. Just as Abby was about to say "Gibbs!" he stopped at the stereo and touched the power button. Abby watched him leave as the lead guitar solo screamed through the lab.


	2. Chapter 2

_0859 Hours_

Agent Gibbs opened the door to the Conference room. Agent David was already there with the three men. Captain Richard Owens stood and shook hands with Gibbs. "These are Ensigns Jose Ramirez and Gary Rasmussen. They were with Petty Officer Richards before he went to the bus station."

"Have a seat, gentlemen," Gibbs said. He took the seat at the end of the conference table and motioned for Ziva to take the seat on his right. "Tell me about last night."

The Ensigns painted a pretty typical tale of a shore leave. The Seahawk had not been back to the States since its deployment eighteen months before. A large group had spruced up, donned dress uniforms and headed out for a night on the town. The night began in one bar and ended around 0200 with Ramirez and Rasmussen walking Richards to the bus station.

"Where was everyone else," questioned Ziva.

Ramirez cleared his throat and cast a glance towards the Captain. The Captain just nodded for him to continue. "Well, some of the guys got so drunk, you know. First time drinking for some of them. Wilson got so sick, a couple of the guys took him back to the ship so he could sleep it off. Then Petty Officers Smith and Gordon, well they, the last time we saw them they had girls with them. They disappeared about midnight."

Gibbs asked, "What time was it when you last saw the rest of your friends?"

"About 0130, sir," offered Rasmussen. "I remember because Officer Richards said he needed to get to the bus station. He was really anxious to get home to his family. We told him we'd go with him to the bus station."

Ramirez interrupted. "He was pretty upset finding out his wife and kid had left Norfolk. He found that out yesterday when he tried to call her."

"When did you leave him," asked Ziva.

At 0200, the men had left the bus station. Richards was waiting for the 2:30 Greyhound to Staunton, Virginia. Gibbs thanked them, shook their hands and told them NCIS would be in touch. Captain Owens told Gibbs that the _Seahawk_ would be docked for another three days before continuing on to Norfolk.

"By the way, Gibbs. We have not been able to reach the family. When Richards' wife and child left the base at Norfolk, Richards was not notified. Neither was the Navy. They just left."

_0932 Hours_

"We'll take care of it, sir." Gibbs hung up the phone. "DiNozzo, McGee. Get your gear."

Tony and Tim started grabbing their badges, sidearms, and packs. "Director Vance has decided that we should let the family know about Petty Officer Richards' death. McGee, you located an address for McCord?"

"Yes, I did Boss. It was a little hard to locate. It's in a secluded area northeast of Staunton, about 50 miles."

Tony said, "You're sending us on a "Sorry about your son" detail, Boss?" He immediately regretted the sarcastic remark as he looked at Gibbs' face. He silently mouthed the word "sorry."

"While you are there, find out why the wife did not notify the Navy or her husband of her moving back in with daddy." Gibbs paused. He was debating with himself on whether or not to give his agents the heads up on the old bastard. He decided to trust them and their instincts.

"Ziva and I are going to work this end and find out what that mysterious piece of paper was in his pocket," Gibbs finished as he motioned for the two to take off. "Stay in touch. There's another storm system coming through."

As McGee and DiNozzo stepped into the elevator, they looked at each other with surprise. "Since when does Boss pay attention to the weather?" McGee asked. It was all Tony needed to launch into a movie reference about a day when the earth was suddenly frozen over due to climatic changes caused by global warming. Ziva breathed a sigh of relief to be left behind. She much preferred working with Gibbs these days as opposed to Tony. She was still pretty pissed at him, to put it mildly. Even though Tony had been right about Michael. And she had been totally wrong.

The sound of Gibbs' voice broke into her reverie. "Let's go," he said. She grabbed her things and followed Agent Gibbs to the elevator.


	3. Chapter 3

_1305 hours_

"Okay, here's an easy one for you, McGee. 'Come with me if you want to live.'"

McGee rolled his eyes and looked at Tony. "Tony, you know I don't know this stuff. I can't play your little 'name the movie' game!"

Tony glanced at his partner as he lowered his driving speed to 45 mph to safely maneuver another curve. "Oh, come on! I'm giving you the easy ones. Don't even tell me you have not seen that one!"

Tim just sighed and looked straight ahead. They had been on the road for three hours and it had been tedious for at least two hours and 50 minutes, not counting the hour stop for gas and lunch. McGee checked the printed directions and then glanced at the GPS. They had left the interstate just under 40 minutes before and he was now hoping their turn off was soon.

"I suppose you would rather sing "99 Bottles of Beer" or would it be "99 Bottles of Milk," chided Tony. "This weekend you are coming over to my place and we're going to have a movie marathon. I'm going to give you the education you are so lacking…"

"Stop!" McGee yelled. Tony slammed on the brakes and they both jerked forward. Tony looked right and left and said, "What! Did you see something?"

"You missed our turn. We need to go back to that dirt road on the right," McGee directed.

Exasperated, Tony grimaced at Tim, put the car in reverse and started to back up the road.

Tim looked at him. "Don't you think you ought to turn around?" For the last 10 miles, the road had become steep and full of curves.

Tony laughed. "Come on, McGee. There's nobody out here so no cars are coming. Live dangerously for once in your life. Besides, did you see anywhere I could turn around on this road?"

McGee wished for the third time that morning that he had been the one driving. On the other hand, Tony was the better driver and he never felt his life was in danger the way he did when Gibbs or Ziva drove. Until now. He was on the edge of an anxiety attack as they backed their way up the mountain.

"There, that's it," McGee pointed.

Tony stopped and put the car in gear and they began the trek up the steep dirt road. It was full of switchbacks. At one point there was a one lane bridge over a creek. "Wider is better," cracked Tony. Then he asked, "How much further. This is getting kind of creepy. Who lives out this far away from civilization? Not expecting that out of a Navy officer."

Tim reached into the back seat and brought out a canvas supermarket bag full of snacks. So much for that diet. He pulled out a box of cheese flavored crackers and sat it between him and Tony. Tony dug in with his right hand. "Hey McGee, you brought snacks! Thanks."

"You're welcome. And to answer your question, I believe the home of Colonel McCord will be on our left in about another mile. "

Five minutes later, Tony pulled the car into a gravel drive that led up to the McCord home. There was a two story modern cabin with a two car garage. The rather large yard was landscaped and there was a barn with a corral. Two beautiful horses looked at the agents as they got out of the car. The McCord estate was in its own little corner, high up on this mountain. McGee imagined that one could look over into West Virginia at the top of the hill behind the McCord home. As they started towards the porch, the front door opened and retired Lt. Col. Calvin McCord greeted them with a shotgun in his hand.

"Who the hell are you?" McCord asked. His personnel picture had not done him justice. He was tall and muscular and had the look of an angry grizzly on his face. His deep voice commanded authority and Tony found himself wondering why this man had not made it higher in the ranks than Lt. Colonel.

"Col. McCord, I'm Special Agent Tim McGee and this is Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. We're with NCIS." Tim waited for a response from the man, not quite sure he wanted to give the man the news of his dead son-in-law with a shotgun pointed at them.

"What do you want?"

Tony caught sight of a young woman holding a baby through the front window. He recognized her as the young widow Richards. She looked just like her picture, except the smile was gone. He read fear in her eyes. "May we come in, sir? We have some bad news for you and your daughter."

McCord followed Tony's gaze and then looked back at the two agents. After what seemed to be a lifetime for Tim and Tony, McCord finally lowered the weapon and turned to go inside. The agents followed him into the house. The inside of the home reminded Tony of something you would see in the mountains of Montana. The living room was open and you could see doors off the upstairs balcony. To the left was an open area with a large pine dining room table and chairs. Off of that was a door leading into the kitchen. The house was decorated with paintings by a famous artist known for his western landscapes. Tim noticed the various Native American artifacts, from a couple of throw rugs to pottery on the end tables. A playpen stood in the corner next to the couch. Sheila Richards was putting her son down in it then took a seat next to the baby.

McCord motioned for the men to take a seat. Tony took a chair directly across from Sheila and Tim sat on the other end of the couch while McCord sat down in a well-used recliner. "What's this all about?" he growled.

Tony took the lead. He kept his gaze on Mrs. Richards. Tim looked at the Colonel to see his reaction. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but your husband, ma'am, Petty Officer Mark Richards was murdered last night in Washington."

The young woman's face went white and silent tears began to fall. However, she didn't react the way most people do when they hear someone close to them has been murdered, Tony thought. He had expected shock at least. But it wasn't there. She stared straight at him and didn't say a word or try to hide her face. There were no sobs. The fear in her eyes, however, was still there.

Tim watched the face of the father-in-law. This is one cold sonofabitch, thought McGee. There was a minute tightening of his throat and his face took on a red shade. His eyes glistened as he stole a glance at his daughter. And there was something else there. Was it relief?

The two agents watched as Sheila turned to look at her father. He finally met her gaze and then he crossed the room and held her in his arms. Tony and Tim tried to look away and still make mental notes of the reactions. Tony wondered when the two would ask how it had happened. But it was almost as if they had been expecting it. Finally, Sheila spoke.

"How did it happen? Where did you find him?"

McCord interrupted before either of the agents could respond. He told her gently to take the baby and to go lie down. He would get all the details and fill her in later. She started to protest but seeing her father's determination, she picked up the child and turned towards the stairs. Tim and Tony stood up. As she passed, Tony said. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Ms. Richards."

Sheila stopped and looked at Tony. Her eyes were bright with tears. "Thank you." The baby smiled and reached out for Tony. Tony stretched out his index finger and the baby grabbed it. "What's his name?" Tony asked.

"Calvin. " Sheila turned and made her way up the stairs, baby Calvin cooing all the way. The men listened until they heard the closing of a door down the hallway.

"Gentlemen, give me the details." McCord motioned them to sit at the dining room table and then he went to the kitchen and brought back mugs and a coffee pot. He was all business and Tim felt like they were junior officers reporting to their commander. As they sipped on the coffee, Tim and Tony took turns giving the man the details of the murder of his son-in-law. As Tony described the death as an execution, McCord fell back into his chair, holding his head in his hands.

The first 'normal' reaction, Tony thought. He glanced at Tim and knew that they were thinking the same thing. McCord and his daughter were not shocked at the news of Mark's murder. They were grieving, but not surprised. They had expected it. Tony stepped out on the proverbial limb.

"Sir, excuse me for asking, but did you suspect Petty Officer Richards was in danger? And if so, what made you think that?"

McCord sighed. Then, the man they had first met, the one with the shotgun and the grizzly attitude returned. He got out of his chair and headed to the front door. He was angry. McGee turned a puzzled look at Tony. Tony shrugged. He stood up and they both followed the Colonel feeling they were being dismissed.

"You gentlemen should be on your way. "

Tony stood directly in front of the man, showing that he was not going to be intimidated. "Sir, you didn't answer my question."

The Colonel took a step towards Tony trying to intimidate him. DiNozzo stood his ground, as if daring the Colonel to take a punch at him. With the way the man looked, Tony thought it was entirely possible that would be his next move.

McCord finally spoke. "Mark was into something but I don't know what. I felt my daughter and grandson shouldn't be left alone on that naval base so I went down and brought them back here. That's all I know and that's all you or anyone at NCIS needs to know."

"Can you tell us when you first suspected something, Colonel?" McGee asked.

"About two months ago," was the clipped response.

DiNozzo watched the man closely. He was starting to break out in a cold sweat and his hands were balled up in fists. The veins were standing out on his neck. The man looked ready to explode.

"We still have some other questions and we came a long way to ask them, sir," McGee continued. "We also need some direction on how you want the body to be handled. There are arrangements that should be made once our investigation is completed."

For a moment, it looked as if McCord was losing his cool. Anger was being replaced with sadness. The tension was leaving as his shoulders started to sag. He ran his hand through his graying hair and stole a glance towards the second floor.

Tony tried to lighten the mood. "Look sir, we've got a pretty mean boss, and we hate to go back to D.C. without a little more information from you and your daughter. Can we continue our conversation?"

McCord turned his face towards DiNozzo. "Who is this boss of yours, young man? I've just received word that my only daughter's husband was murdered and all you want is information for your boss? I don't suppose your boss would have any clue as to what that feels like!" McCord spit the words out.

Tim nervously cleared his throat then tried to match the intensity of the man. "As a matter of fact, he does, sir. Knows what that feels like, I mean. Our boss's name is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, sir."

McCord took a step back. The agents both caught the signs of recognition at Gibbs' name. Almost immediately, the Colonel regained control.

"You tell that boss of yours, Special Agent Gibbs, that if he has any more questions for me I will answer them when I'm good and ready. Sheila and I will come to D.C. at the end of the week to make arrangements." McCord reached over and opened the door. "Now get out of here," he growled and practically pushed the two agents out the door.

Now McGee was angry. "Sir, do you know if the phone service has been restored? Or do you have a cell number where we can reach you?"

"I will be in touch with NCIS on Friday. Good day, gentlemen." McCord slammed the door behind him. As Tim and Tony made their way back to the car, Tony turned and looked up at the second story. Sheila Richards stood at a window looking down at them. When she caught Tony looking at her, she stepped back out of view.

"Well, that was interesting," said McGee as he buckled his seat belt.

"Yeah," Tony responded and then was quiet. Tim knew his partner was processing the entire interview and making mental assessments.

As Tony turned the car around and started down the drive, Tim asked, "Did you get the message they both were not surprised to hear about Richards' death?"

"Loud and clear," said Tony. "I think we got a lot of answers even though they weren't spoken. It was as if Sheila knew her husband was going to be killed. She was scared."

McGee nodded his head in agreement while he wrote in his notepad. His cell phone beeped and he looked at the screen. "Gibbs was right about the weather. There's a cold front coming in pretty fast. We're going to have some bad weather on the drive back."

Tony shook his head and laughed. "Only McGee would have weather alerts sent to his phone."

Tim ignored the gibe. He put his notebook back in his pocket and reached for a couple of cans of soda in his duffel bag. He opened one and set it in the cup holder for Tony, then took a swig of his own. They began to toss around theories about the case. Tony felt like all the signs pointed to a professional hit and Tim agreed. The Colonel suddenly moving his daughter and grandson to his home in the remote mountains of Virginia indicated his desire to get them to a safe place. What could the Petty Officer have been into that put his family and himself in danger?

Tony munched on the chips that Tim offered him. "Did you see McCord's reaction to you when you said Gibbs' name? Do you think they know each other?"

"Could be," Tim said. "Funny that the boss didn't mention it though. Speaking of Gibbs, I should probably check in with him."

McGee punched #1 contact on his cell. Gibbs answered almost immediately and McGee filled him in on the visit to McCord. Tim could hear the frustration in his boss's voice. "Get back here as soon as you can."

They had reached the end of the dirt road and Tony made a right hand turn onto the pavement. "You're going the wrong way, Tony," Tim said. "Remember, this is the way we were going when I told you to turn around."

Tony braked and started to put the car in reverse but caught sight of a vehicle coming up behind them. "Damn," he said. "Now I've got to keep going and find a place to turn this sucker around."

Tim grunted. "It may be awhile on a road like this."

"Hey, do we know what else Abby found out about that piece of paper?" Tony asked. "She also said she was hoping to get a match on the bullet and the second blood sample."

"I'll give her a call," Tim replied and hit #4 on the cell. After 3 rings he heard the sound of loud music being turned down and then Abby's "Timothy! How's the road trip going?"

While McGee talked to Abby, Tony was looking for a place to turn around. He looked in the rearview mirror and thought to himself how the black SUV behind them seemed a little out of place on this back road of Virginia. He thought about motioning the driver to pass him as the distance between them grew shorter. But the road was too narrow for that and getting too close to the edge of the road would send either car into the valley below. Then his suspicious mind gave him a thought.

"Hey, McGee," he said. "Have Abby run a plate number for me." He looked at the license plate on the SUV, and reversing the letters and numbers, he ticked it off to McGee. Before McGee could relay it to Abby, Tony caught sight of the front passenger side window being rolled down and a man leaning out. He had a gun and was pointing it at them.

"McGee, look out!" Tony shouted. There was the sound of breaking glass as the first bullet hit the back window. Tim shouted, "Watch it!" as Tony struggled to keep the car on the road.

"McGee, what's happening?" Abby's voice came from the forgotten cell phone. The phone fell to the floor as McGee struggled to get his gun out. Tony was doing the same thing at the same time he was stepping on the accelerator. Another shot rang out and the side mirror on McGee's side shattered. The SUV was attempting to pass and get in front of the agents' car. Suddenly, as fate would have it, the mountain road widened and stretched out for a half-mile stretch. The driver in the SUV made his move and the shooter took aim directly at Tony's side of the car.

Tim shouted, "Tony, look out!" The bullet shattered the window and a shower of blood sprayed everywhere. Tony cried out in pain and anger as he lost the grip of the steering wheel. McGee grabbed it as he vaguely took in the stain of blood forming on Tony's shirt over his right shoulder. Before he could gain control, Tim heard two more rapid shots and the car lurched and bucked. Both front tires had been blown and the car slowed. The momentum pointed the car towards the edge of the road. He found himself yelling, "We're going over!" as the car started its plunge down the side of the mountain. Both men were oblivious to Abby's desperate calls to them from the cell phone as it fell out the window on one of the many turns down the incline.


	4. Chapter 4

_1433 hours_

"According to my conversation with Richards' shipmates, the fragment of paper found in the Petty Officer's pocket is probably nothing," Ziva was saying to Gibbs. Agent David stood beside Gibbs' desk going over her notes from Abby's lab reports. "Apparently Richards was a romantic and bought special stationary from the different ports the _Seahawk _visited as well as different kinds of ink so that each letter he wrote home to his wife would seem special. His shipmates thought he was pretty old-fashioned and gave him a hard time about it."

"Abby says there is no match in the database on the bullet yet," Gibbs added. "And we found nothing interesting in his sleeping quarters."

"My interview with his closest friend, Petty Officer Luke Hastings, was interesting," Ziva said. "He said Mark had been acting a little strange since the incident in Greece."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Strange, how?"

Ziva continued. "Hastings said Richards was usually outgoing and a natural leader. After visiting Greece, he noticed his friend was subdued and verging on paranoia. Hastings found it odd that Richards isolated himself rather than hanging down with the guys."

Gibbs couldn't keep the smile from his face. "'Hanging out', "he corrected her. She just looked at him. Gibbs shook his head and continued, "Did he have any clue what was causing his change in behavior?" Before Ziva could respond, they both turned at the sound of Abby screaming Gibbs' name.

_1436 hours_

Gibbs led the shaking and sobbing Abby to the chair behind McGee's desk and sat her down. Ziva grabbed the tissue box off of her desk and knelt beside the distraught woman. Gibbs took the phone from her hand and looked at the last call: it was McGee's caller i.d.

"Abby," he said to her gently, "I need you to calm down. What happened? Why do you think Tim and Tony are dead?" He took her hand, hoping he could help calm her down. But her pulse was racing. She was close to hyperventilating. Gibbs whispered to Ziva to call Ducky to come up so he could check on her.

"I can't calm down. I heard shots fired, and yelling, and tires screeching, and…oh my gosh, Tim wouldn't answer me, and Tony was screaming…" Abby's face was paler than normal and Gibbs could guess she was on the verge of passing out. He gently but firmly brought her shoulders and head down while whispering, "Breathe, breathe slowly, Abbs. I need you to calm down and breathe slowly so you can tell me what happened." Abby's entire body was shaking and Gibbs was preparing to catch her if she indeed fainted. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Abby's distress was being taken in by other agents as heads popped up from other cubicles.

A small brown paper bag appeared and Gibbs took it from Ducky's proffered hand and placed it in front of Abby's mouth. Ducky lightly touched Abby's wrist and frowned. "I think we'd better find a place for her to lie down, Jethro."

"No!" Abby jumped up out of the chair, way too fast. Gibbs and Ducky each caught her by an arm and walked her back to the lounge area. Ziva cleaned off one of the couches and stole a cushion off a chair to act as a pillow. They forced Abby to lie down all the while she tried to protest which only made her breathing more erratic.

"Abigail." Ducky spoke gently to her. "We realize you are frightened about Anthony and Timothy but you have to calm your breathing down so we can hear what you have to tell us. It won't do you or them any good if you pass out on us."

The doctor's words got through to the scientist. She understood that her body had pumped too much adrenaline into her body, causing her to panic which in turn caused her rapid breathing causing carbon dioxide depletion. She had to calm down so she could tell them about Tony and Tim. But her fear that it was too late almost started the whole cycle again. She finally managed to see the worried expressions on Ziva, Ducky and Gibbs. I'll focus on Gibbs, she thought. He'll help me get through this.

Ducky smiled as Abby's breathing got back to normal. He took the paper bag from her. "Would you like to try to sit up now? Slowly, my dear." Abby sat up and Ducky sat next to her, with Gibbs on the other side. Ziva knelt in front of her and noticed that Abby was still shaking. She placed her hand over Abby's.

Abby looked at Gibbs. "Okay. McGee called me to ask me about the paper, and the bullet, and the blood. I told him I didn't have anything on the bullet or the DNA results yet. I told him what you found out, Ziva, about Richards' mushy stationary buying and fetish with ink. Then I heard Tony asking about a license plate, but before Tim could give me the license plate, there was a gunshot, and then Tony was yelling, then McGee was yelling." Abby was getting upset again, but Gibbs lightly touched her on the shoulder, reminding her to slow down.

"So then there were two more shots and the tires were screeching and I heard Tim yell 'We're going over'. There was a lot of noise, like crashing noise, and then there was nothing." A sob escaped her and her head fell on Gibbs' shoulder. "They're dead, Gibbs. I just know they're dead." Her words were muffled with her face buried in his shoulder. Ducky quietly checked her pulse again and looked at the paleness of her face. Ziva looked at Gibbs while she got out her cell phone, punching in Tony's number.

Gibbs looked at Ziva with a raised eyebrow. "It went to voicemail," she said.

Gibbs looked up to see Director Vance standing at the edge of their little circle. Gibbs realized how the scene had affected him when he hadn't been aware of the Director's presence. Vance spoke to Ziva. "Agent David, can you give me McGee's and DiNozzo's last known location?" She nodded and the two of them went back to the work area.

"How is she, Duck?" Gibbs asked, concerned about Abby's near collapse. Before Ducky could answer, Abby said, "I'm fine now, Gibbs. I just needed you and Ducky and Ziva." She pushed herself up and made an attempt to dry her face with the tissues. Ducky nodded at Gibbs indicating her pulse and respiration were going back to normal. "We've got to find them!" She started to jump up and both men grabbed her wrists and firmly planted her back down in her seat.

"Wait a minute, Abbs," Gibbs said.

"Gibbs, I'm fine. I need to do a GPS locator search on Tim's phone. Don't you get it? We need to find them!"

Gibbs gave her one of his half-smiles. He was always amazed at how her emotions could roller coaster. But then she always turned that emotional energy into her work and that's what made her such a valuable asset to the team. Her brains, beauty and emotions were a complete package of what any forensic scientist would envy.

"You said something about a license plate that Tony was asking about. Did you by any chance hear what the license plate was?"

Abby scrunched up her face, recalling the conversation almost verbatim. Then she looked back at Gibbs with a hint of a smile. "Tim was going to tell me, but I heard Tony so I wrote it down while he said it." She reached into her lab pocket and pulled out a slip of paper with the license plate number on it. Gibbs reached over and kissed her on the cheek. He stood up and offered Abby a hand up. "Let's go to work and find Tony and Tim."


	5. Chapter 5

McGee opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. His face was burning and his head was throbbing. He was sitting up straight in his seat where the seat belt had refused to allow his body to go through the windshield or escape out his door. His chest hurt from the belt strapping him in tight. Then he remembered Tony. He snapped his head to his left, regretting it, but remembering that Tony had been shot before the car had plummeted down the side of the mountain. To his dismay, the driver's seat was empty.

"Tony!" McGee called as he struggled to release his seat belt. Finally free from the belt, he tried to open his door but it wasn't budging. Tim turned to crawl out Tony's side of the car, ignoring the shooting pain going up his right leg. He also tried to ignore the huge blood stain on the driver's seat. Had Tony been thrown from the car?

"McGee, over here!" Tony was behind the car trying to get the trunk open. "Are you okay, Probie?"

McGee took in Tony's appearance. Blood was trickling down his right hand as well as down the left side of his face from a laceration. He was shaking as he kept trying to jimmy the trunk open with a piece of metal from the former bumper of the car. Tony's face was going whiter by the second.

"Tony, what are you doing?"

The trunk popped and Tony stumbled. McGee moved to grab him but Tony managed to stay on two feet. "McGee, grab as much gear out of the car as you can. We need to burn the car before we get out of here."

Tim steadied Tony as his partner pulled out an emergency road kit. "What are you doing, Tony? That's not going to help us after rolling down a cliff 500 feet and you with a gunshot wound."

Tony stopped long enough to look Tim in the eyes. Were his pupils normal, Tim wondered.

"McGee. Whoever ran off the road and put a bullet in my shoulder will probably be down here to see if they need to finish the job they started. If we blow up the car, it will give us a little more time to get out of here. They'll have to see if there are any bodies in the car. Or, if we're lucky, they could just figure we're toast and go away."

Tony was right, McGee thought. And lighting a flare in the gas tank would be more convincing than a gunshot to start the car burning. He reached into what was left of the back seat of the car and grabbed their backpacks and the sack of food. Tim wondered where his cell phone was and then suddenly remembered Abby. She must be going out of her mind, he thought.

"McGee, come on!" Tony yelled as he stuck the emergency flare into the gas tank. "Give me a match?" he asked McGee.

"How did you know I'd have a match, "said McGee as he pulled out a pack of matches from his backpack.

"You are a Boy Scout, right?" queried Tony. He reached for the matches and almost keeled over. Tim grabbed him and led him a few feet away behind a rock pile. Tony was white as a hospital sheet. "Stay put. I'll do it." Tim turned back towards the car. As he lit the match, he thought he heard voices coming from up above their location. "Not a minute too soon," he mumbled. He ran back to where Tony was waiting. He picked up the gear and with Tony's good arm around his shoulder, they hurried away from the car. Even though they had anticipated the explosion, it still made them stumble and fall, no more than 200 yards away.

Tony looked at McGee. "They sure don't make 'em like they used to, Tim!"

"C'mon. Let's get out of here." McGee placed Tony's pack on his back, hoisted his own, and then got Tony's arm around his shoulder. His own pain was on the edge of his thoughts but his concern for Tony forced it to the back of his mind. He was pretty sure his ankle was broken.

Tony's voice was quiet and shaky. "So, where are we going, partner?"

McGee thought for a moment. "Boss will come looking for us at McCord's. We can at least head back that way."

Tony nodded his head in agreement. That alone scared Tim. No biting remark. No sarcasm. And the scariest of all; no allusion to a movie. They would need to stop soon to take assessment of Tony's injuries. Just as he was searching for a place to take a break, McGee felt a drop of moisture on his neck.

It was starting to snow.


	6. Chapter 6

"I can't get a lock on Tim's cell phone, Gibbs, "said Abby. She was on McGee's computer trying desperately to track the men down on the GPS locator software.

"Try Tony's," Ziva offered. "I tried calling and it went to voicemail, so it may be on."

Gibbs took out his phone and punched in Tony's number, hoping it might be answered by his senior agent rather than going to voicemail again. Abby was typing Tony's number into the computer at the same time.

#####

"Do you hear that?" Tony huffed. McGee slowed his pace and listened. "It sounds like music," Tim said.

Tony stopped. "What the hell, I deserve a major head slap, McGee!" He let go of McGee and slid down next to a fallen tree. He grimaced in pain while he patted his jacket and pants pockets and finally came up with his cell phone. The tone was unmistakably the theme song from a late 70's detective show.

McGee was beside himself. "Your cell phone? Why didn't…"

"Hey, in all the excitement, I forgot, give me a break!" Tony yelled back. He hit the "talk" button. "Boss!"

#########

"Tony!" Gibbs' voice shook with relief. Abby and Ziva both hovered beside him to listen to the conversation.

"Tony's alive! What about Timmy? Is Tim okay?" Abby was frantic as Gibbs looked at her and held one finger up to her mouth. Ziva put an arm around her as they both got quiet.

"What's your status?" Gibbs asked. He listened. Gibbs interrupted to ask about McGee. Apparently Tony handed the phone to McGee because Gibbs asked, "How bad is Tony?" Abby started to cry again and Ziva looked visibly shaken.

"Okay, find somewhere safe and stay put. We will find you. Whoever tried to kill you may be on their way back to McCord's place. Keep the phone on so we can track you." Gibbs paused, listening. Then he added, "Either one of you die before I get there will be answering to me." He snapped his phone shut. He turned to his desk but was blocked by one determined forensic scientist. Gibbs put his hands on Abby's shoulders and looked her straight in the eye but his words were directed at Ziva.

"Ziva, tell the director we need a helicopter and on the ground back up to McCord's place. He and his daughter are either in danger or behind the attempted murder of two NCIS agents. Call Ducky and have him meet us up here. We're going to go get DiNozzo and McGee."

Abby was staring at Gibbs waiting for him to tell her details about Tony and Tim. "Tim is okay, he's handling the situation. Tony has a gunshot wound to his shoulder." Abby started to say something but Gibbs, once again, lightly touched her mouth with a finger. "We're going to go get them and bring them home, Abbs."

Abby threw her arms around Gibbs for a brief moment, and then stepped back. "I haven't run down that license plate yet. I'll do that right away and get back to you." She pulled herself together knowing that her team needed her to do her job.

"Thanks, Abbs." Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky, who had just appeared, made their way to the elevator. Abby watched them go. She turned a circle looking at all the work stations, as if trying to remember what it looked like to have each team member sitting at their desks. "They will all come back. They just have to."

########

McGee slipped Tony's phone into his own jacket pocket. There was no protest from his partner. The snow was starting to come down pretty steady but luckily there wasn't a lot of wind with it yet. He moved Tony's jacket aside to take a closer look at the gunshot wound.

"You're bleeding again, Tony," Tim sighed.

"My bad," Tony grimaced. "I decided to bleed more to take my mind off this throbbing headache."

"You must have hit your head pretty hard," Tim said. He was removing his jacket and shirt, taking off his tee shirt to use it as a bandage. He hurried to don his shirt and jacket again, then began ripping the undershirt into strips.

Tony said, "Funny. I get shot and hit my head and never passed out though, while you with your air bag conked out for a couple of minutes. Don't you have a headache, Timmy?"

Tim wanted to say "yes, but the pain in my ankle makes me forget about it," but for some reason didn't want Tony to know about the broken ankle. To Tony he said, "It's not that bad." He sat Tony up to take his jacket and shirt off.

"Ay, yi, yi, it's cold, McGee," said Tony. McGee ignored him and began wrapping the bullet hole with the makeshift bandage. He hoped it would stop the bleeding for awhile. He gave the last strip a firm tug.

"Owwww," Tony yelped. His face blanched again. Tim mumbled, "sorry" as he replaced Tony's shirt and jacket as carefully as he could. He looked at Tony, taking note of the cut on his head and his breathing. Tony started to get up.

"Tony," McGee stopped him. "Maybe you should wait here while I go find us somewhere to lay low until the Boss gets here."

DiNozzo looked up at his partner. McGee was probably right. But he was not going to wimp out and let a little gunshot and concussion slow him down. Between the snow and two gunmen the worse thing they could do, in Tony's mind, was separate.

"McGee, my butt is getting wet sitting here. Help me up."

Tim reached down and grabbed Tony's good arm, hauling him to a standing position. The last of Tony's color drained away and Tim took all of his weight while the dizziness passed. Once Tony was steady, Tim leaned down and picked up their packs.

"I say, we keep heading back to McCord's place," Tony said.

McGee limped forward with DiNozzo's arm on his shoulder. He was positive that he was damaging his ankle by walking on it but that couldn't be helped. There was no way to tell if the gunmen had been convinced of their demise when the NCIS car had blown up or if he and Tony were still being tracked. The snow was getting heavy enough that an amateur could follow them. McGee also was not sure that going back to McCord's was their best option. Whoever had tried to kill them was either sent by McCord or was after Calvin McCord and Sheila Richards. His gut was telling him that McCord and Richards were in danger. That would explain why Sheila and the baby had been whisked away from Norfolk.

Suddenly Tony's hand gripped Tim's shoulder hard. "What?" Tim asked.

Tony shushed him. "Listen!"

They both stood frozen in their tracks. There was a rustling sound to the left of them. McGee felt for his gun but realized it had been lost sometime during the crash. Tony's was gone too. All they could do was wait.

"I don't hear anything anymore," Tim whispered. "Let's keep going."

They turned back to their trail but stopped immediately seeing the man standing in front of them with a shotgun trained on them. Then he lowered it and trotted towards them.

"Let's get you men back to my place," McCord said.


	7. Chapter 7

_**1520 hours**_  
"Ever ridden a horse before?" McCord asked.

McCord now had Tony leaning on him. He had immediately assessed that McGee was favoring his right leg. "Gibbs trains his agents well," he thought to himself. They had stumbled about 100 yards when they came across one of the horses the agents had seen at McCord's place.

"Let's get you both up there," McCord said. Tony started to make a sarcastic comment about riding double with McGee but one look at the Colonel made him decide against it. With the Colonel's and McGee's help, Tony made it to the saddle where he immediately fought passing out. McCord gave Tim a hand's up with McGee's good leg, putting him directly behind Tony. Silently, McCord took the reins and they began the trek up to the road. Several times, Tony and Tim grabbed on as the horse went almost vertical. By the time they were at the top of the incline, Tony was breathing hard from the pain induced by the jarring.

Just as Tim was about to ask Tony if he was okay, McCord leaned into the horse and said, "Take 'em home, Shiloh," and the horse took off. Both agents grabbed whatever they could to hang on.

"McGee!" Tony yelled.

"Whatever you do, Tony, don't fall off!" Tim yelled back.

To the injured men, the ride back to McCord's place felt like forever when it was over in about 10 minutes. Shiloh went directly to the corral and stood waiting for the men to dismount. As Tim looked for the smoothest way down, Tony was sliding off. McGee tried to keep his unconscious partner from hitting the ground.

"Let me help you." Tim was startled to see Sheila Richards running towards them from the direction of the house. Sheila managed to hang on to Tony while Tim gingerly dismounted. McGee and Sheila got on each side of Tony and half-carried, half-dragged him into the house.

"Let's lay him down here," said Sheila motioning to the couch. Laying Tony down, McGee then reached down to take off Tony's jacket. Sheila put a hand on his arm. "Let me do that," she said. "You need to get off that leg." With relief, Tim sat down in a chair next to the couch. His ankle was throbbing and he was finally able to assess the damage. As he raised his pant leg, Sheila glanced over and gasped. McGee's ankle was swollen about three times its normal size and there was a deep, angry bruise covering the lower part of his leg. She quickly moved an ottoman under his foot and said, "I'll be right back."

Tim took out Tony's cell phone and pushed Gibb's number. After several rings, he hung up and dialed Abby's number.

"Tony!" she practically screamed. McGee yanked the phone away for an instant. "Abby, it's me, McGee."

"Oh my God, Tim. Are you okay? Is Tony okay? Where are you?"

"That's why I'm calling, Abby. I need to get word to Gibbs that Tony and I are back at Col. McCord's home. He came and got us." Sheila had returned from the kitchen with her arms loaded down. She placed a towel with a bag of ice on McGee's ankle. He winced and she motioned for him to keep it there. He nodded a silent thank you. She then turned to tend to Tony's shoulder.

"Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky are on their way, "Abby assured him. "They are flying in. They left in a helicopter at 1450. There should be some back up units coming there too but I'm not sure who will get there first. Oh, I have to tell you about the license plate!"

"Abby, you got the license plate? Good job!"

"Thank you, McGee," Abby answered. "Here's the deal. The plate belongs to a rental car. The car was rented this morning to a man by the name of Demas Kostas."

"Were you able to find out anything about him, Abbs?" Tim leaned over to adjust the ice pack and grunted. Sheila turned and asked, "Are you okay?" Tim shook his head "yes" and Sheila looked doubtful, but she turned back to Tony.

"He is the son of a very famous, or I should say, infamous man in Greece. His father is Alexander Kostas and he is on the Greek Hellenic police's number one suspect list for major illegal activity for exports and imports."

Suddenly, there was a loud noise outside. Sheila jumped up, grabbing a rifle that was leaning against the wall right beside the front door. "Abby, I gotta go," said McGee as he hung up on Abby.

"Are those other guns loaded?" he asked Sheila, glancing at a gun rack on the wall next to the front door. She nodded and Tim moved to select a rifle.

She looked out the window then relaxed. "It's my dad, "she said while opening the door. "He just put the horses in the barn. That noise was the barn door banging shut."

Col. Calvin McCord entered the house and gave his daughter a quick hug. "How are these men doing?" He went straight to Tony. He blew out a low whistle as he glanced at McGee's leg.

"They both need a hospital, dad," Sheila said, picking up the wash basin and heading towards the kitchen. The Colonel laid a hand on Tony's forehead, pulled up a blanket, and adjusted a pillow for him. There was a low moan and the Colonel's head went down. "This is my fault." McCord turned and looked at McGee's leg. "I'm sorry. " There were a few moments of silence as Tim wasn't sure how to respond to the Colonel's apology.

McCord spoke again. "When do you expect the cavalry to get here?" He moved over to take a closer look at Tim's ankle. "They left NCIS about 30 minutes ago," McGee answered. "Depending on the weather, they could be here in anywhere from 10 to 30 minutes, I guess, sir."

Sheila returned with a tray with water glasses and over the counter medications. She handed a glass to McGee, along with 3 ibuprofen. She also had an ace bandage and scooted her father out of the way so she could wrap McGee's ankle. "This won't help much," she said, "but maybe we won't have to shoot you." When McGee's eyebrows went up, Sheila looked sheepish. "Sorry, it's a bad joke. You know, horses and broken legs?"

McGee relaxed and managed a half-smile through the agonizing pain as Sheila began to wrap the ankle. He could slowly feel himself falling apart. The warmth of the house and having someone else do the care giving was managing to kill off whatever adrenaline rush he had left. He felt Sheila put his other foot up on the ottoman and soon a blanket was over him. Just as he was about to drift off, he remembered Abby's phone call.

"Colonel, can I ask you a question?" McCord turned from his position at the window where he sat in a dining room chair. "Yes, Agent McGee. I'll let you ask your questions now. I can't promise you though that I will answer all of them." Sheila moved behind her father and squeezed his shoulder. She positioned herself near the other window facing the front yard.

"Does the name Alexander Kostas mean anything to you?" McGee asked. At the mention of the Kostas' names, Sheila threw a questioning look at her father. McCord gave her a slight nod. To McGee he asked, "Why do you ask?" McGee told them about the information Abby had given him. When the Colonel didn't respond, McGee asked, "Was there a link between your son-in-law and Kostas?"

Before either Sheila or her father could answer, the sound of a Marine Corps helicopter was above the house. McCord pushed up from his chair and stood to watch the helo trying to maneuver a landing near the barn. The Colonel went outside to guide the chopper in. McGee was so relieved that help had arrived that at first he didn't hear the gunshots. A second later, he was stumbling out of his chair and reached for a rifle in the nearby gun rack.

"Dad," Sheila screamed from the front door. As Tim got to the door, he could see Colonel McCord lying on the ground. Sheila Richards was kneeling on the front porch with her rifle raised, scanning the area in front of the McCord house, trying desperately to pinpoint the gunman. McGee watched as Gibbs and Ziva jumped from the helo, shooting in the direction of the gunfire. As they moved to help McCord up, Ducky was running towards the house while Sheila and Tim provided cover fire. McGee guessed that by the sound of the shots being fired there was at least one other sniper.

"McGee, what's happening," yelled Tony from the couch. DiNozzo was attempting to get up from the couch but was failing. As Ducky got to the door, the doctor headed straight to the couch and attempted to get Tony to lie back down.

Gibbs motioned for the helicopter to take off while Ziva and the Colonel made the porch, closely followed by Gibbs. McCord didn't seem to be injured.

"Dad, are you hurt," Sheila cried, as they all hurried inside. "No, honey, I was just ducking for cover." The two held each other, McCord trying to calm his daughter. Ziva turned to a window and scanned the horizon outside for signs of the attackers. McGee watched as Gibbs looked down at his leg, turned to look at Tony, then back again at McGee.

"Glad you could make it, Boss," Tim sighed as he collapsed back into a chair.


	8. Chapter 8

_1613 Hours_

"Would you mind explaining to me, why you waved off your only way of getting your men out of here, Gunny!" McCord spit the words from across the large room, as Gibbs was leaning over to ask Ducky about Tony's condition. Gibbs had his back towards McCord and stopped in mid-question. He stood up straight, took a deep breath and turned to face his former commanding officer. Gibbs walked towards McCord and then turned to look out the window. Ziva and McGee held their breath, anticipating the angry response that was sure to come. Instead, Gibbs pointed outside and said in a low, calm voice, "Look out there and tell me what you see." Then just as calmly he added, "Colonel."

Everyone but McCord looked to where Gibbs was pointing. The light of day was fading quickly and not just from a setting sun and the shadows from the mountains. Visibility was minimal as the mild snowfall had switched into high gear and the wind decided it needed to join in. "We barely made it here," Gibbs continued, "and I certainly wasn't going to ground a Navy helo when I had to beg to get it in the first place."

McCord let out a low growl in response and started to turn away. But he was stopped when Gibbs reached out, grabbed him by the shoulder and whirled him around. The former Marine got right up into McCord's face. "Let's get this straight, right now. I am no longer your Gunny, I am Agent Gibbs with NCIS. You are **not** my commanding officer but a suspect in the death of your son-in-law, Petty Officer Mark Richards. I and my team are here to rescue my agents and to investigate the death of Richards while attempting to stay alive while under siege in your residence here in this god-forsaken corner of Virginia. Do I make myself clear, Colonel McCord?"

McCord moved closer to Gibbs and his voice became low and menacing. "What do you mean 'a suspect in the death of my son-in-law', Agent Gibbs?" Ziva glanced at Sheila Richards who had been watching the two men square off but who now turned away. Ziva made eye contact with McGee who she determined was watching Sheila's reaction as well.

Just as Gibbs was about to respond, Ducky interrupted. "I hate to break up this little tête-à-tête," the Doctor began, "but I must insist I discuss Anthony's condition with you, Jethro."

Gibbs caught Ducky's gentle inference that the conversation he and McCord were having might be better suited by privacy rather than the public pissing match they were having. It also brought him back to the reality that Tony was not doing well.

"Listen," McCord began. "If we keep the curtains closed and the lights low, I don't know that we have to worry about our friends outside trying anything. How about if I make a pot of coffee?" Gibbs didn't respond and instead motioned to Ziva to close all the drapes. McCord turned and went to the kitchen. As Ziva moved to all the front windows, she noticed the fading daylight and the swirling snow left little to no visibility. Still, the Mosad trained agent kept her eyes focused outside, watching for any sign of movement. If it were her waiting outside, she would not wait for morning to advance an attack.

McGee sighed heavily, relieved that the two Marines had called a silent truce to their argument. He tried not to wince when he accidently hit his leg on the chair. Sheila noticed his discomfort and moved to once again push the footstool closer and eased McGee's legs onto it.

"How bad is it, Ducky," Gibbs asked as he pulled a straight back chair closer to the couch. A bleary-eyed Tony looked at Gibbs. "Boss, it's not as bad as it looks, right Ducky? What's with you and…?" Ducky's hand on Tony's good shoulder interrupted his brave attempt to shift focus from his condition.

"At the risk of sounding like an old town doctor from one of Tony's spaghetti westerns, Jethro, I have to say the bullet must come out. He's lost a lot of blood and the bullet is sitting on an artery that needs to be repaired or Tony will bleed out before any hope of getting him to a hospital. And I have yet to mention his obvious concussion."

It didn't seem possible for Tony to go any paler but he did at the doctor's words. Tony trusted Ducky with his life but he was smart enough to know that a house in the mountains with gunmen waiting outside was not the best place to have surgery. But if he had a choice of bleeding to death like John Wayne or having Ducky pull a miracle out of a hat, he would take the miracle.

"What do you need," Gibbs asked.

"A hospital, Jethro. But since that is unattainable at this moment, I'm wondering if we could get Anthony into a bedroom and I can set up from there. Maybe the young Mrs. Richards would be willing to help us get what we need."

"I'll ask."

Sheila nodded when Gibbs asked for her help. She said they could use her father's bedroom which was down the hall off the living room. She went in the kitchen to talk to her father who was just coming out with a fresh pot of coffee and a tray of food. "Whatever they need, honey," he said. He sat the refreshments down on the dining room table then moved to help Gibbs and Ducky relocate their patient. Gibbs grabbed Tony by the belt and threw his good arm over his shoulder while McCord got him from the other side. Tony bit his lip trying to keep himself from screaming at the pain from the movement. It had increased a hundred fold from the time they had been rescued by the Colonel.

Sheila stopped midway to the bedroom upon hearing a baby's cry coming from the upstairs. Baby Calvin was making sure his mother knew that his nap was over. "I'll be right back," she told Ducky and headed up the stairs.

Ziva came over to McGee with a cup of coffee. "Here," she said and placed it in his hands. "Thanks, Ziva but I don't think I want it." She pushed the coffee back towards him. "Drink it," she insisted. "Tell me what happened this afternoon." Ziva wanted to hear what happened but she also wanted to keep a close eye on Tim. Even though he seemed to be in less danger than Tony, he was not looking well at all. She could tell the pills Ducky had given him had done nothing to relieve the pain of his broken ankle.

Gibbs and McCord came back into the living room as McGee was reliving his and Tony's exploits of the day. Every now and then, Gibbs or Ziva would interrupt to ask a question. McCord just sat silently, taking it all in. McGee finished by telling them about the last phone call from Abby, and Ziva managed to grab the coffee mug from him as his eyes closed. Gibbs reached over to check his pulse while Ziva reached for the previously discarded blanket. Satisfied that he was finally succumbing to the pain medication, both agents turned their attention to McCord.

"Time for my interrogation, Gun…I mean, Agent Gibbs?"

Before Gibbs could respond, another voice spoke up. "Why do you think my father had anything to do with my husband's murder, Agent Gibbs?" No one had noticed when she had come down from the upstairs and had gone into the kitchen to fix Calvin's dinner. Now, she was placing the baby in a high chair at the table.

"Excuse me," Ducky said from the hallway, "but I wonder if I might ask two of you to volunteer to help me with my procedure."

Gibbs nodded to Ziva and the two of them stood to follow Ducky. Sheila came over and touched Gibbs lightly on the arm. "Agent Gibbs, I am a registered nurse. Let me go and help. Dad, would you feed Calvin for me?" McCord nodded. Ziva and Sheila followed the doctor back where Tony was waiting.

McCord went to sit next to Calvin and began feeding his grandson. Gibbs went to the closest window and peered through a narrow opening. Seeing no immediate threat, he turned and went to sit at the table. McCord reached over to turn on a lamp that sat on a butler's table behind him. Gibbs didn't think the light could even be seen through the closed drapes.

Neither man spoke as they watched the youngster enjoy his processed meat, potatoes and peas. What was it about a baby and the noises of appreciation he was making that could cause these two hardened men to forgot about both their shared past and the danger that lurked outside. "Innocence," thought Gibbs. He looked over at the child's grandfather and said to himself, "were we ever that innocent?"


	9. Chapter 9

_1705 hours_

"Now my dear, I understand that you are a nurse?" Ducky asked Sheila as he washed his hands in the master bathroom sink. He glanced at Sheila's reflection in the mirror as she leaned on the doorframe, waiting for her turn at the soap and water. Ziva had been first to wash and was now talking softly to Tony. Sheila nodded and moved to the sink as Ducky stepped away; drying his hands on the towel she had given him.

"Where did you go to school?"

"I attended Georgetown on a full scholarship," Sheila said. For the first time since they arrived, Ducky detected a hint of a smile from the young woman. "I met this young sailor my senior year when I was doing my clinicals. Mark was a charmer. He reminded me a lot of my dad." She stopped rubbing her hands but the water continued to run as her eyes stared at her reflection. Ducky reached over and turned off the faucet. "Are you sure you are all right my dear, to help with the procedure," Ducky said in his gentle voice.

Sheila sighed and took the towel from Ducky. "Yes, of course I am." They left the bathroom and went to get started.

As Ducky laid out what instruments he had with him, he began to question the wisdom of operating on Tony. He had enough tools to get the job done, if all went well. But there would be no anesthesia and getting the artery repaired after the removal of the bullet would be tricky even in a well-equipped surgical arena. The risk of infection was great if it wasn't already present. The doctor tried not to show his trepidation to his two volunteers. But Ziva caught it.

She stood beside him and whispered, "It will be okay, Ducky. You are a very skilled doctor and Tony is strong."

Ducky smiled at her. "Yes, Ziva. Anthony is strong and we really don't have a choice. If I don't try, Anthony will certainly die. I'm only attempting to stave death off until we can get him back to Bethesda."

Ducky turned to see that Sheila had placed a blood pressure cuff on Tony's arm and was now cleaning the wound. She was going to be a great asset. He handed Ziva a pair of surgical gloves and donned a pair of his own. "We'll need to turn on the overhead light and that lamp there on the table. I will need all the light I can get."

Ziva pulled the drapes closed, turned on the lights, and put on the gloves. She turned to Tony who was vaguely aware of what was going on.

"Where's my piece of rawhide, Ziva?" Tony mumbled.

Ziva looked confused. "Rawhide," she asked.

"The doctor would give it to the cowboy to bite on while he was digging out the bullet," Sheila explained. Ziva still looked bewildered.

"In the movies," Ducky added. Ziva could not stop the eye roll.

"Ziva, I'm going to need you to keep Anthony as still as possible without getting in my way," Ducky said. "Do you think that is possible?" The doctor mumbled something about needing a real hospital operating table and an anesthesiologist while Ziva gently climbed up on the bed behind Tony's head. She squeezed her slim frame in between the headboard and Tony's pillow, and placed her hands on each of Tony's shoulders. Sheila moved down to pin his hands down at his side. She stretched over his legs just above the knees.

Tony looked up at Ziva. "Well, now," he murmured. "I can't tell you how often I've dreamed of…" He was stopped in mid-sentence by the pain that suddenly seared through his shoulder as the scalpel dug into his wound in search of a bullet that threatened his life. He couldn't stop his body from the natural instinct to fight against the painful attack on his nervous system. Ziva and Sheila held him tight as the patient struggled against their hold on him. Tony thought he heard someone screaming as his world faded to gray and finally to black.

##############

Baby Calvin didn't like hearing the scream of pain that came from the back bedroom. He jumped as babies do at the strange sound, paused, and then began to cry himself. His grandfather moved to pick him up and comfort him. While Gibbs cleared the dinner remnants, McCord paced the living room, trying to sooth the child. It wasn't long before he had the child calmed and placed him in the playpen.

Returning from the kitchen, Gibbs had made his way to sneak a look out the front window again. There was only semi- darkness to see. He could barely make out that there was now at least an inch of snow on the ground and the wind had died down. "Snow won't stop them from coming in," he thought, turning his gaze towards the gun rack. Depending on how desperate the gunmen were out there, he was trying to calculate the odds of when an attack might come.

"They'll wait until morning," McCord said as he joined Gibbs at the gun rack.

Gibbs looked at him for a moment. "What makes you so sure?" he asked.

"Because I know them. I know what they are after. I know how they operate. If they were going to attack they would have done it by now."

McCord motioned Gibbs to join him at the table and poured two mugs of coffee. Gibbs wasn't willing to let his guard down just yet. But he was ready to get some answers. He accepted the coffee and took a chair across from the Colonel.

"So, talk." Gibbs said.

McCord stared into his coffee. His only concern at this moment was the safety of his daughter and grandson. He could care less if Gibbs believed his story or not. He had respected the young Gunnery Sergeant. Even though he had only been his C.O. for about 6 weeks, McCord had recognized a man determination and quiet strength. He was a real patriot. McCord and his family's fate were in the hands of a man who detested any possibility or hint of treason against his country. He needed this man's trust. Not for himself but for Sheila and the baby.

"I gave into greed, Gibbs. " He paused to see Gibbs' reaction. There was only a stare. "I was suspected of drug dealing but the evidence failed to convict me. The Corps demoted me to Lt. Colonel and forced me to retire."

"Was it true?" Gibbs asked.

McCord sat back in his chair. "I was guilty but not of drug dealing. I did some favors for a Mr. Alexander Kostas. My wife was dying of cancer and the bills were mounting faster than we could pay them. Sheila was an infant and I wasn't thinking clearly. The Corps sent me home to take care of my family. When I arrived at the states, I went directly to the hospital in Richmond. I stayed with her for 10 days until she faded away. Sheila's grandmother said she would take care of her while I finished my tour of duty."

McCord stopped to take a deep breath. The guilt and shame were being revived as intensely as they had been at his court-martial. "I was approached by a man as I left the hospital's billing office. I had gone in to set up a payment plan. I was given that option but realized it would take the next 30 years to pay it off. I was angry. I felt cheated. Not only did I have this enormous debt to pay on a military salary, but my wife had been stolen from me. My daughter would never know her mother."

"Who was the man?" Gibbs asked.

"I never knew his name," McCord answered. "All I knew was he offered me a way out. If I would agree to be a courier for his 'boss' the medical bills would disappear. At first I said 'no way'. The next morning I called the number he had given me and told him I might be interested. He told me to wait until I heard from him. Then Kostas himself showed up at my front door the day of the funeral. He walked into my house in the middle of my wife's wake and introduced himself to my friends and family as a business partner."

Gibbs watched as McCord reached for the coffee pot. As he poured, McCord's hands were shaking. He sat the pot down and stared into the cold liquid.

"I agreed to be the man's courier. Envelopes would show up in my vehicle, in my mail, my locker, just about anywhere, no matter where I was deployed. For the next 6 months, without question, I received them, followed the instructions I was given and made sure they got to their destination. I didn't know what was in the envelopes and didn't want to know. Then, I heard a television report about a bombing that had taken place in the country of Georgia. Eighty-nine civilians, mostly schoolchildren had died in an early morning attack. I had just completed a carry to the capital of Georgia. It made me wonder and for the next 48 hours while I was stationed in Crete, I did some homework."

McCord paused, leaned forward and matched Gibb's icy stare. "I connected the dots to every one of my deliveries. Bombings, murders, bank robberies, arsons. There was a major incident that coincided with the time I delivered those envelopes. They used me. A United States Marine officer could get by a lot of places and not be suspected of involvement in a Greek mafia ring."

Gibbs cleared his throat. "But the Corps connected the dots too."

"My C.O. did. He's the one that called for J.A.G. to investigate and eventually called for the court-martial. But they got to him. I don't know what they did but Kostas somehow convinced my Commanding Officer to make me for running drugs instead of being a courier. They made all the evidence disappear." McCord rubbed his eyes, as if he was trying to get the images out of his head. "I lost my career in the Marines and I let my country down as an officer."

"So how does Mark fit in?" Gibbs prodded.

"I got a phone call from Mark when he was on leave in Greece. He was drunk. He was also near hysterics. I was finally able to get out of him that he had been approached by someone to deliver a package to the U.S. The man had identified himself as a friend of mine. When Mark told the man he didn't want to be responsible for the delivery, the man threatened Sheila and the baby. He also told him that I was still indebted to the Kostas family and that if the package was not delivered, Mark would be responsible for my death."

"That's when you moved Sheila and the baby here from Norfolk?" Gibbs asked. McCord nodded. "Mark called from D.C. after trying to reach Sheila at Norfolk. He was mad and scared. Said he wasn't going to have anything to do with something illegal. I told him to report immediately to his C.O. He didn't want to do that fearing that the C.O. would have him arrested and he wouldn't be able to see Sheila and baby Calvin. I tried to talk sense into him but he wouldn't listen. I asked him when he was supposed to make the drop and he said the next evening. The next thing I know your agents are standing here in my living room telling me that Mark is dead."

Gibbs was quiet as he mentally went over the Colonel's story. Everything sounded plausible. Richards had decided not to make the delivery and instead, planned to get on a bus to see his family. Either Kostas or whoever was supposed to get the package had caught up with him. "They must be looking for the package," Gibbs thought or they wouldn't be sitting out there now waiting for the right moment to storm the McCord house.

"Jethro."

Gibbs turned to see Ducky standing in the door of the hallway wiping his hands with a towel. From the look on Ducky's face, Gibbs feared that he had just lost his Senior Agent and friend. Could this day get any worse?


	10. Chapter 10

_1759 hours_

"Abby?"

Jimmy Palmer entered Abby's lab and looked around. Abby was nowhere in sight. He called again, casting a glance into her office. When he turned to leave he thought he heard something. He looked around the lab again and saw black, steel adorned boots poking out from behind the mass spectrometer. He walked around to find Abby sitting on the floor hugging that stupid stuffed hippopotamus. Palmer crouched down to Abby's eye level.

"Hey," he said. "I came to see how you were holding up."

Abby finally looked up at Jimmy and gave him a half-smile. Better than what he had hoped for. She patted the floor next to her and Palmer joined her.

"I haven't heard a thing since McGee hung up on me. I just hope they are all okay."

"I'm sure we'll hear something soon, Abby," Palmer offered. They both jumped a little when they heard the doors to the lab open, followed by the voice of Director Vance. "Miss Scioto?"

Palmer jumped up and gave Abby a hand. He was sure this looked somewhat odd to the director, but at this point, he could care less. Apparently, if the Director thought it was odd, he ignored it and got to the point.

"Good, Palmer. I'm glad you're here as well. The helicopter pilot just checked in. Said he was able to deliver Gibbs and David and Dr. Mallard to the McCord home but came under fire. Gibbs ordered him to leave. The storm is playing havoc with getting back up in there."

"Under fire?" Abby blurted. "Was anyone else shot or killed?" My God, can't we do something?"

Vance held up a hand. "We don't know much right now. We haven't been able to reach anyone by phone, but we'll keep trying. We should have another team in there before midnight." He stopped and looked at Abby and Jimmy. Here's where Gibbs would be the fatherly type and say something encouraging. But he wasn't Gibbs. "You both should go home. I'll keep you informed."

As Vance turned to leave, Jimmy offered, "Thank you, Director." Vance paused at the door, trying to think of something to say. "You're welcome. Good night."

Abby returned to her previous hiding place. "You can go home, Jimmy. I'm staying here. I know I can't do anything but I don't want to go home either. I'll cope better if I just stay here."

Palmer hesitated. He went into Abby's office, grabbed a blanket and two throw pillows from her couch, came back and joined Abby on the floor. He made himself comfortable and threw the blanket over Abby. She nestled into his shoulder and said, "Thanks, Jimmy. I owe you one."

###################

"Ducky? Tony…is he…?"

Ducky suddenly aware of what Gibbs was thinking stopped wiping his hands and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Jethro, Tony's alive. I'm sorry. I guess my demeanor may have made you think the worse. Our young friend is alive but I'm not sure how long I can keep him that way." Ducky looked for a place to sit feeling the stress of the previous hour take over. Gibbs led him to the couch.

"I managed to extricate the bullet but I'm afraid, infection has already begun. The good news is the artery wasn't as damaged as I first suspected. I repaired what I could. He's lost a lot of blood and his body is in shock. He'll do for now but Anthony will need real surgery when we can get him to a hospital."

"Thanks, Duck." He looked up to see Ziva coming into the living area. His trained eye could tell she was trying to hide the effect Tony's injury was having on her. She nodded at Gibbs and moved to take position at the front window.

"Now, I think I should attend to my other patient," Ducky said as he stood and moved over to McGee who was still asleep. Gibbs moved a chair over for Ducky in front of the ottoman. Sheila appeared and went to check on Calvin who had fallen asleep in the playpen. Gibbs walked over to stand beside her.

"Thanks for helping with Tony," Gibbs said quietly. They both looked down at the baby whose tiny chest rose and fell with deep, baby breaths. Oblivious peace in the midst of human chaos.

Sheila turned to look straight into Gibbs eyes. He saw a quiet strength in this young widow. A strength that he had once witnessed in her father's eyes. "No matter what my father and my husband have done or may have done, Agent Gibbs, I will always love and respect them. I just hope you can see past their mistakes and see them for who they really are." Then, so soft he barely heard her, "or were."

"Yeoow!" McGee was no longer asleep. Ducky's hands had found the broken bone in McGee's ankle. Both Gibbs and Sheila went to see if they could assist. Ziva turned briefly from the window and Gibbs thought he caught sight of wetness on her pale face. She turned her eyes back to stare out into the darkness.

"I do apologize, Timothy, but I think we need to bring down that swelling before I try to set your ankle." McGee managed a nod but no words came. Ducky asked Sheila to retrieve his bag from the bedroom while he held McGee's foot in his hand. He let go and looked at Gibbs.

"There's still a pulse in his foot, which is an excellent sign. Perhaps his trek through the wilderness didn't damage his leg as much as I'd feared. Could you find some towels and a good deal of ice, Jethro?"

Gibbs was beginning to think that things were starting to go their way for once. Now that injuries were being assessed and attended to, he might be able to get his mind wrapped around a way to end this standoff. He delivered the towels and ice McCord had gotten from the kitchen. He left Sheila to help Ducky with McGee's leg. The agent was looking a little green but Sheila, sensing the same thing had placed an empty bowl within reach. Gibbs offered McGee a "hang in there," and joined Ziva at her post. McCord came and stood on her other side.

"Well, Colonel? When can we expect them to make a move?" Gibbs asked, his eyes straining to see into the dark night and the swirl of snow.

McCord growled under his breath. "Any moment, is my guess. They've given us enough time to let our guard down." He glanced at the clock hanging above the fireplace. "But you can bet, the move they make won't be one we expect."

################

_1940 hours_

Gibbs entered the bedroom where Ducky was keeping vigil over the two patients. With Sheila's help they had decided to move McGee back in with DiNozzo. In case the Kostas gang decided to storm the house, at least the wounded would be out of the way. Gibbs had tried to convince Sheila to take the baby and stay in that part of the house but she insisted on keeping Calvin with her upstairs in her own room. Ducky was dozing in a chair near the bed, while McGee was stretched out on a couch. He was wide awake.

"What's happening, boss?" McGee asked. His voice was a little shaky but some of the color had returned to his face. The bruise on his forehead was a shiny purple and the burns from the airbag were starting to fade.

"Not much, McGee." Gibbs responded. He looked at Tony and tried to hide his concern. Tony's condition was the opposite of McGee. There was no color left in his face except a tint of red from a fever. He was restless in his sleep and the bandage over his shoulder was bright red again.

"No change, Jethro," Ducky said without opening his eyes.

Gibbs handed McGee a rifle from McCord's rack. "Can you handle this if you have to, McGee?"

"Yes, Boss," McGee was quick to answer. He started to get up.

"Where are you going?" Gibbs said.

McGee looked up at Gibbs and managed a weak smile. "I thought I should at least face the bedroom door instead of the wall." Gibbs grunted. "Good thinking, McGee," he said as he helped Tim adjust to face the door. "Stay put." Gibbs pointed at McGee as he helped him stretch out his injured leg.

Gibbs headed for the door. "Got one of those for me?" Ducky's words stopped him.

He turned to look at Ducky then at his sidearm in his hand. He shifted the gun and held it butt end to Ducky. "You remember how to handle one of these, Duck?"

Ducky took the gun and turned it over in his hand. "Unfortunately, it's like riding a bicycle. Even though the Hippocratic oath I took some time ago encourages me to forget." With one last look at DiNozzo, Gibbs left the bedroom to join Ziva and McCord in the front room.

################

_2100 Hours_

"Coffee, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs turned to Sheila holding out a steaming mug of coffee. He took it and said, "Thanks. I thought you had gone to bed?" He sipped at the coffee while looking at the young woman as she went to the gun rack, carefully choosing a rifle. "Calvin is safe. I need to be down here."

Sheila took a position at the window in the living room. Gibbs' gaze followed her as he tried to figure out what made her tick. In the last 12 hours, she had been informed of her husband's murder, discovered her father's apparent indirect involvement, and called to use her skills as a nurse for two NCIS agents, all the while scared to death that something would happen to her infant son. And yet, she hadn't fallen apart, or hid herself away in an upstairs bedroom or even lashed out in hysterics or rage. She was in control. Definitely her father's daughter.

"I raised her, Gibbs. She's learned to cope the way I do." McCord stood with his own cup of coffee staring out the same window as Gibbs.

"So, _**you're**_ a mind reader, now?" Gibbs tried unsuccessfully to keep the bite out of his tone.

McCord gulped a swig of coffee before answering. "That was the lamest comeback I had coming at you that day, Gunny." Remembering Gibbs didn't want to be reminded of their former professional relationship, McCord added, "Agent Gibbs."

McCord leaned his back against the wall and looked straight at Gibbs. "I couldn't figure out how you knew. I was so angry at being caught at the same time afraid for my daughter and all I could do was yell at you about being a psychic for ratting me out."

"I didn't 'rat' you out," Gibbs said. "I merely reported what I witnessed. I was asked to report your comings and goings while we were stationed in Greece to J.A.G. "He paused, sipping at his coffee. "They just happened to ask the right questions." He returned McCord's stare.

"But you knew, Gibbs. You knew it wasn't drug running I was doing. I could tell."

Gibbs sighed. "But I had no proof. Just suspicion. That's why you had me shipped back to the states. You thought I had evidence."

McCord grumbled. "I couldn't take the chance that you did. Ironically, my moving you out sent up a red flag to J.A.G. which started the investigation."

Gibbs set his empty cup down, glanced towards Sheila, then turned fully to McCord. "Look. We need to put this in the past where it belongs so we can figure out how to handle the present. I don't want our past to put anyone in danger here. Anymore danger than we already are, that is."

McCord nodded. "I will do everything in my power to make sure this thing with Kostas ends here and now. Just promise me one thing, Gibbs. Whatever happens, make sure Sheila and that baby make it out of here alive."

"We're all going to make it out of here, Colonel. _That's _a promise."

"I hope it's one you can keep."

"Gibbs!" Ziva's voice quiet but sharp snapped them to attention. "Something is moving out there!" Ziva snapped her sidearm and pointed it towards the front door. Gibbs motioned for McCord to move to Ziva's left. He heard Sheila behind him and he motioned her to step back.

Suddenly there was a pounding on the door. "Open up, please! It's pretty cold out here!"

Gibbs looked at McCord, silently asking if he recognized the voice. But McCord had lost all color in his face. "My God, it can't be."

"Who is it?" Gibbs whispered. Before McCord could answer, the pounding started again.

"Colonel McCord! Please, I come with an offer of peace!"

Ziva tensed as Gibbs motioned he was going to open the door. McCord looked at Sheila with an unmistakable expression of "I'm sorry." Gibbs opened the door.

In stepped Alexander Kostas himself.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Okay, finally got an update. Hopeing to work through this story a little faster than I have been. Thanks for all the reveiws and words of encouragement!** _

_####################_

_2110 hours _

"Hands up where we can see them!"

"Don't move!"

Ziva and Gibbs had Kostas in their sights as McCord stood there staring at his nemesis. Sheila's hands gripped the rifle she was holding so tight her knuckles were as white as her face. Gibbs glanced behind him and saw the tears of anger streaming down her face. Fearing she might shoot and ask questions later, he stepped slightly into her line of sight. Ziva kept one eye on Kostas and the other on McCord.

"Okay, okay," said Kostas as he raised his hands. McCord raised his weapon and moved towards Kostas. Gibbs reached out to put a hand on the rifle.

"Colonel?" he questioned. The muscles in McCord's face and jaw were visibly working and Gibbs feared that he wouldn't be able to stop the grieving father-in-law from pulling the trigger.

Ziva said, "You don't want to kill him, Colonel McCord. You want him to pay for what he's done."

"Don't add murder to your list, McCord, "Gibbs added.

Alexander Kostas stood in the doorway with his hands in the air and a smile on his face. Wisely, he waited to speak until the NCIS agents had things under control. Gibbs shifted to look at Sheila without losing Kostas from his view.

"Sheila." She didn't respond. "How about we hear what he has to say?" Gibbs asked. She continued to tighten her grip on the gun and stared at Kostas as the tears continued to stain her face.

"If we don't like what he has to say," Ziva added, "then both of you can shoot him."

McCord growled. "Okay. But I can guarantee I won't like it so let me have the first shot."

Slowly, Gibbs and Ziva brought their weapons down. Ziva moved to close the door and pat down their unwelcome guest. The man appraised Ziva as she searched him yet never losing eye contact with him.

Gibbs turned to Sheila. She seemed to be in a trance brought on by the knowledge that her husband's executioner was in her home. Her rifle was shaking and she still hadn't blinked. Gibbs moved to her side and gently touched the hand that was on the trigger. His touch broke the spell. Sheila blinked and the gun went limp in her hand. Gibbs grabbed it and pulled her over to sit on the couch. McCord went to her side.

"He's clean, Gibbs."

"Of course I am. I told you. I come in peace." Kostas' voice was deep, and thick with a Mediterranean accent. Gibbs could see that he was a man in control. He was in control of his emotions, his employees and his puppets. Gibbs knew Kostas was convinced he also had control of this situation.

Looking straight at Gibbs, Kostas asked, "May I sit down?"

"I'd prefer that you stand."

"You won't be staying long anyway or I just might ignore Agent Gibbs' advice and shoot you," growled McCord.

Kostas chuckled. "Now that would be very unwise. My men have orders to storm the house if they should hear even one gunshot."

Ziva couldn't hold it in any longer. "Tell us what you want, you swine, then go back to your pig sty."

"Now, Agent David…yes, I know your name and you as well Gibbs. I did not get to where I am today without having excellent employees who do all my research for me. They kept me informed as I made my way here today. Quite a dramatic entrance the two of you made in your Marine helicopter. Alas, too late to save your agents McGee and DiNozzo."

Gibbs risked a moment of eye contact with Ziva. No mention of Ducky. The ME _**had**_ gotten out of the other side of the helo. Maybe through the gunfire, he had not been seen by Kostas' men. Kostas was also unaware that McGee and DiNozzo were still alive. Not that that was much of an advantage with the shape Tony and Tim were in. A small advantage, no less.

"But as I was saying," McCord continued, "there is no cause for any more bloodshed. I merely came for my package."

Gibbs glanced at McCord and Sheila. It seemed as though neither one knew what Kostas was talking about. He looked back at Kostas and said, "What package?"

For the first time since he had entered the house, Kostas' face grew dark. "Don't make this difficult Agent Gibbs." He stepped over towards McCord. Everyone tensed but Gibbs waved Ziva back and they both repositioned to cover McCord and his daughter.

"It seems your son-in-law was not as bright as you Calvin. He took the package we gave him in Greece but then had a change of heart. He did not deliver it as planned. Unfortunately, when we asked him where he put it, he claimed he delivered it. We know this is untrue. My men tried to persuade him to tell the truth but …"

Sheila jumped from her seat and rushed towards the enemy. Her fists came in contact with Kostas' jaw, left then right. Her voice raged as she screamed, "You killed him, you bastard! " The Colonel grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms down while Kostas rubbed his jaw and laughed. The laugh catapulted Gibbs into action. Gibbs was on Kostas, yanking him around and pushing him down to the floor, aiming his gun into the Greek man's chest.

Gibbs stared directly into Kostas' eyes. "Before I let that man and his daughter at you, you will tell me exactly what you are looking for and why you think it is here. Then if I like your answers, and we can find this package you are looking for, I will let you work out a deal that gets us all out of here in one piece. Do you understand?"

Kostas returned Gibbs' stare. "You are in no position to work out a deal with me, Agent Gibbs." The dark look on Kostas' face was emphasized with his menacing words. All pretenses at good nature were gone. "I have enough fire power outside this house to make your FBI's Waco incident look like a school yard scuffle." After a moment of silence between the two he said, "Now help me get up from this undignified position and I will explain to you what it is I am looking for."

Gibbs stood but refused to offer a hand to Kostas. The man stood taking his time to brush himself off and straighten his clothes. He glanced at his watch. Then he looked at the four people who seemed ready to kill him at the slightest movement he might make. Without asking, he sat in the chair that had not long before been occupied by McGee. The Colonel and Sheila sat down with the daughter burying her face in her father's shoulder. Gibbs positioned himself by the door while Ziva stood between Kostas and McCord.

"Your husband, Mrs. Richards, accepted a package from me while he was in Greece. His instructions were to deliver it to a colleague of mine in D.C. I explained to him the relationship I once had with his father-in-law, and the consequences of not following through with his mission. The meeting place was given to him but he never showed. The young Mr. Richards called the contact number I had given him with the message that he had delivered the package. He tried to deceive me. That was unacceptable."

Gibbs cleared his throat. "Maybe I'm missing something here, but why do you think the package is here if you killed Petty Officer Richards before he even made it onto the bus?"

Kostas sighed. "The fact is, we knew the young Richards had changed his mind even before he left the _Seahawk_ that night. My son witnessed your husband, Mrs. Richards, post the package with a delivery company the first day his ship docked at the Navy yard." Kostas paused, trying to sort out how much information he should give out. "My son can be quite persuasive and discovered the package had been shipped overnight to Colonel McCord."

Gibbs tried not to let his face show any reaction. He decided to bluff, knowing it was merely a stalling tactic.

"What makes you think it got here? The ice storm could have fouled up an overnight delivery."

For once, Kostas seemed to be taken off guard. But he recovered quickly.

"Possibly you are right, Gibbs. But let's just say that it did arrive. When your agents showed up, my son and my men assumed that McCord had given the package to them. Unfortunately, they and their car did not survive a terrible mishap on the side of the mountain. After checking the wreckage, my men returned here to determine if indeed the package had been destroyed. That is when you and Agent David made your grand entrance. Unfortunately, this snowstorm made my travels difficult but not impossible." Kostas turned away to look at the Colonel. "Come now, Calvin. Just tell me if the package has been destroyed and we can end this."

Gibbs turned and looked at McCord, whose head was down. Sheila pushed herself away from her father and stood up. He reached for her as she passed and said, "No, honey, don't." Sheila ignored him and walked over to stand in front of Kostas.

"If you think the package was destroyed, why are you here?" her voice shook but the pitch was had returned to almost normal. The tears had dried and the steeliness Gibbs had witnessed in her before had returned. It was if she knew the answer before asking.

"I want to make sure that it was. And also…," Kostas stood and looked down into Sheila's face, "to remind your father of all the things I have done for him."

Gibbs stepped between Sheila and Kostas.

"So this isn't about your precious package, is it, Kostas? This is about continuing to control this man and his family."

"Yes, Agent Gibbs. It is about control. This man, this former United States Marine General, is now an old retired Colonel, who was demoted because of his drug running to pay off his dead wife's hospital bills. That is what the world believes. As long as he owes me, the world will never know that he betrayed his country or that two NCIS agents are dead because of him, not to mention his son-in-law."

Kostas laughed a mean, deep guttural laugh and continued. "And don't forget, the memory of his grandson's father. We don't want to have the little boy growing up believing his father was a traitor to his country."

"You sonofabitch!" McCord yelled, charging towards his tormentor.

Gibbs sidestepped out of the way as McCord landed on Kostas and started swinging. Sheila watched as her father wailed on the man who had ordered her husband to be killed. After a few moments, Ziva looked at Gibbs. "Should we stop him?" she asked quietly.

"Hang on a second," Gibbs said. After a few more well-placed hits, he nodded at Ziva. "Okay, that's probably enough for now."

Ziva hauled McCord back and surprisingly, the Colonel didn't protest. Kostas looked like a middle school boy, cowering in the chair and hiding his face. Blood was dripping from his mouth and nose which was probably broken. When he realized the beating had stopped, he fought to regain his composure. He stood up and directed his rage at Gibbs.

"You shall pay for this," the Greek shook his finger in Gibbs face. Gibbs didn't flinch. Without looking away, Gibbs asked quietly, "Sheila, where's the package?"


	12. Chapter 12

_2100 hours _

McGee felt himself jerk and his eyes popped open. He had started to doze but a sharp pain had jolted him awake. He looked down to see that his right leg had slipped over the edge of the couch.

"Here now," he heard Ducky saying as the doctor quickly moved to his side. "Let's get that leg back up there." Ducky gently lifted McGee's leg onto the couch. He touched McGee's foot, checking for a pulse. Without warning, Ducky poked hard at the instep. McGee flinched but managed to bite his lip instead of crying out.

"Sorry, my boy. I just wanted to make sure there was still feeling there," Ducky explained. "It was a little difficult to pick up the pulse through the swelling." McGee could see the concern in Ducky's eyes. He held his breath as Ducky positioned another pillow under the injured leg. Ducky placed his left hand on McGee's forehead while checking his pulse with his right.

McGee was moved by the doctor's ministrations. But also embarrassed. After all, it was a broken bone. Tony was lying not 5 feet away in much more dire straits than him. Ducky should be giving all his attention to his partner.

"Ducky, I'm fine," McGee said.

Ducky sighed. "Yes, you are a fine young man, but your leg is not. And I'll thank you to let me do what I was trained to do, to take care of my patients. It's not every day I get to take care of the living." Ducky turned and headed into the bathroom to retrieve some medication.

McGee was a little caught off guard by Ducky's tone. It was rare for the M.E. to show his frustration let alone snap at anyone who was in need of medical attention. With the present circumstances, however, it was a wonder Ducky hadn't lost his temper a few hours before.

Ducky sighed as he came back into the room. "Forgive me, Timothy. I usually don't snap at anyone in my care, living or dead."

"Don't worry about it, Ducky. I think you are entitled to a little venting," offered McGee. He accepted the pain relievers Ducky offered with the glass of water. "How's Tony?"

Ducky shook his head as he pulled a chair up close to the bed. "No change, I'm afraid." Ducky pulled out his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff to start another round of vitals checking. McGee let his head fall back onto a pillow but snapped up again at the sound of pounding on the front door. He reached down and picked up the rifle he had placed on the floor beside him. Ducky looked at the gun that Gibbs had given him. He had placed it on the bedside table next to his chair. The doctor couldn't bring himself to pick it up.

The two of them listened to the voices. There seemed to be only one intruder. McGee had shifted himself and was working his way towards the end of the couch closest to the bedroom door. Ducky went to the bedroom door and started to close it. McGee frowned at him.

"Ducky, don't close it. I want to hear what's going on!"

Ducky stopped with the door halfway being closed. He listened. McGee strained to hear what was being said. They made out the voices of Gibbs and Ziva and McCord. There was a deep voice added to the mix, one with an unmistakable Greek accent. Ducky moved to close the door all the way.

McGee's hand came between the door and the frame. He had gotten up and was now leaning on the arm of the couch just inches from the door. Ducky looked at McGee and then down at his leg. He shook his head and whispered, "You need to be back on that couch, Timothy."

"I need to hear what's going on, Ducky." McGee looked at the older man and hoped he saw this wasn't a discussion the doctor would win. Just as Ducky was about to say what he thought of McGee's stubbornness, a loud moan came from across the room. They both turned and were horrified to see Tony trying to get up from the bed. Ducky quickly moved to Tony's side.

"Anthony DiNozzo!" Ducky's voice was urgent yet he managed to keep the volume low. "Where do you think you are going? Get back in that bed!"

Tony was standing, barely. He looked at Ducky with slightly glazed eyes. "Gotta help Boss," he said weakly before collapsing back into a sitting position on the bed. "Ducky, where's my gun? Gotta watch McGee's six."

McGee turned his attention back to what was going on in the front room while Ducky dealt with a delirious Tony. He could hear Ziva calling the intruder a swine then listened closely to the man's response.

"_Quite a dramatic entrance the two of you made in your Marine helicopter. Alas, too late to save your agents McGee and DiNozzo." _

"Timothy, I hate to ask but it seems I need your help." Ducky wasn't having much luck in convincing Tony to stay in bed rather than run out to give Gibbs and Ziva whatever assistance they might need. McGee quietly closed the door, laying down the rifle on the couch, and hobbling over to Ducky and Tony.

"Tony, listen to me. Gibbs and Ziva are fine. You need to lie down before you open up that wound again." Tony stared at McGee as if he was trying to recognize his partner. Whether it was the sound of Tim's voice or by the pain breaking through the fog, Tony was brought back to reality. He grimaced and moaned while his body went limp. The Special Agent disappeared and was replaced with a critically injured patient. Ducky and McGee gently helped him to lay back down.

"I'll have to dress that wound again," Ducky said. He looked at his supplies and mumbled about running low on surgical tape. He glanced at McGee. "Please, Timothy. Sit down and get off of that ankle." McGee sat down on the foot of the bed. He had managed to ignore the throbbing while Tony was in "tough guy delirious agent" mode.

"Ducky, "McGee whispered, "I think that's Alexander Kostas, out there."

Ducky's eyebrows rose as he looked at McGee over his glasses. "Really? The plot thickens, Timothy."

"Yeah, and get this, he doesn't know that Tony and I survived the crash. I don't think he knows you're here either."

Ducky took a moment to respond as he finished the bandaging on Tony's shoulder. As he listened to Tony's lungs and heart, he said, "And how does Kostas not knowing of our existence help our situation, Timothy?" Ducky looked at McGee and down at his leg with as much meaning as he could muster. Tony was growing restless and McGee hobbled around to the other side of the bed, looking down at his partner.

"I guess it doesn't, does it, Ducky?"

Tony was mumbling, reliving the events of the day through a haze of feverish nightmares. "Gotta do something…McGee's hurt…gotta get ..cover… they'll find us…" Ducky looked at McGee and tried to convey compassion in both his countenance and his voice.

"Timothy. The fact that Mr. Kostas does not know we are here in this back bedroom gives us the advantage of keeping Tony safe. It may give Gibbs some possible advantages of which we are not yet aware." Ducky paused and then moved around to place a hand on McGee's shoulder. McGee tore his eyes away from his partner and met Ducky's gaze. "I know it's difficult for you, Timothy, but you and Tony may have to sit this one out. Let Jethro and Ziva get us out of this one."

McGee watched as Ducky went into the bathroom. He heard the water running quietly, barely audible. He knew that Ducky was right. He also knew that Ducky wanted the secret of their existence to remain that way for Tony's sake. He just found it so difficult to sit by. Despite his injured leg, McGee's mind told him that he should be out there facing the situation head on instead of hiding behind a closed door. He glanced up as Ducky returned with a basin filled with cold water. The doctor sat, took a washcloth, dipped it into the basin and gently placed it on Tony's feverish brow. Tony responded with a little shiver but his mumbling disappeared. After a few moments, his entire body seemed to relax.

Suddenly, the voices in the other room grew louder. There was the sound of flesh meeting flesh and McGee grimaced as he jumped from his chair. He quickly moved to the door and just as his hand touched the knob, he heard Ducky's voice behind him.

"Sit this one out, Timothy."

McGee stopped from turning the knob. He looked back at Ducky, nodded in agreement, and then sat on the arm of the couch. Sitting this one out was the best he could do at this point. He nodded once more at Ducky, then placed his ear on the door.


	13. Chapter 13

_2130 hours_

Gibbs turned and looked at Sheila Richards when she didn't respond. She stood with her arms around her father as he tried to catch his breath after his beating of Kostas. Gibbs watched as a brief flicker of fear appeared on her face and then quickly disappeared. The anger had returned and now it was focused on Gibbs.

"I don't know what you're…"

"The package," Gibbs interrupted. "Go and get it."

Sheila didn't move. When McCord grabbed her hand she turned to look at him. He kissed her on the forehead and said, "It's okay. I have a feeling Agent Gibbs knew we were hiding something all along. He knows Mark's package is here. Go and get it."

As Sheila moved towards the stairs, Kostas made like he was going to follow her. Gibbs' voice was low and threatening. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm going with her."

Ziva shoved the man back down in the chair. "No, you are not."

The evil smirk returned and Kostas took a handkerchief from his front suit pocket. As he began to wipe off the blood from his lip, his eyes bore into Sheila as she passed by. She stared back at him until she reached the stairs. Gibbs watched as she entered her bedroom where baby Calvin was sleeping.

############

"Can you tell what's going on out there?"

McGee jumped at the sound of Ducky's whispered voice over his shoulder.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to catch you off guard, Timothy." Ducky bent down to once again, check on McGee's ankle. Tim tried not to wince as Ducky lifted the foot up about 6 inches.

"Things have quieted down for now it seems," McGee whispered back. Ducky gently replaced McGee's foot then retreated back to his vigil at Tony's bedside. Little did McGee know that Ducky was just as anxious as he was at not knowing what was going down in the other room. His eyes drifted again to the sidearm resting on the bedside table. He had been stupid to ask Jethro for it. Ducky knew it would be the last thing on earth he would do if he had to pick up that weapon.

"Ducky?" The hoarse whisper was coming from Tony. Tony's eyes were open but it was clear to the M.E. that his patient was not sure of his surroundings. Ducky reached once again for the cool, wet cloth and placed in on Tony's forehead.

"There now. Save your strength, Anthony."

"McGee? Is he … is Tim…dead?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Ducky saw McGee turn towards them, his concern for his partner written all over him.

"Not at all, Anthony," Ducky reassured him. "Timothy is here. And so is Jethro and Ziva. Just stay quiet and we'll have you out of here in no time."

Tony grimaced and moaned slightly, shaking his head. "No, we went over the cliff. They were shooting at us. The car blew up. Tim was there. I know he…" Tony was growing more agitated and his voice was beyond a whisper. McGee hobbled back to the other side of the bed, sitting on it beside Tony. He grabbed his hand.

"Tony! Look at me," Tim urged. Tony turned his head and fought to focus on McGee. He took his hand away from McGee's hold and touched Tim's face with trembling fingers. His hand collapsed back on the bed. "You're okay. I could have sworn you blew up in the car, Probie."

"No, Tony. Remember, we both walked away after we blew up the car with the flare. We're at the McCord house." McGee stopped talking when he realized that Tony's eyes were closed again. He watched as Ducky listened to his partner's breathing through the stethoscope. Neither the M.E. nor the agent said a word as they read each other's faces. This had to end soon if Tony was going to make it.

#########

It was a long, quiet, and tense 5 minutes as they waited for Sheila to return. Just as Kostas was ready to convey his annoyance, they all heard the upstairs bedroom door open and close softly. Gibbs looked up to see Sheila returning with an overnight envelope. He took in its size and shape. It was one of those 9x11x2 inch boxes that could conceal anything from a file folder to 200 page book. Sheila started to hand the package to Gibbs as Kostas reached out his hand. Gibbs grabbed it away from him.

"Now, just a minute, Special Agent Gibbs," said Kostas as he stood to face Gibbs. "If you open that package, and see its contents, I cannot guarantee your safety. Indeed, the safety of you and Agent David and the McCord family will be sacrificed."

Gibbs nodded to Ziva. She stepped closer to Kostas and aimed her gun directly at his chest. "If you make the slightest move, I will shoot you."

The sound of a rifle's safety being released echoed through the room. All eyes turned to see McCord raising his rifle in Kostas' direction as well.

Kostas chuckled. "You seem to forget my previous warning. If my son and my men hear one gunshot coming from this house, they will storm in shooting, not caring who they hit. They know that I came in unarmed and a gunshot would only mean that I have been the target." He focused once again on Gibbs who was holding the package. "Open it if you must, Agent Gibbs. But you will no longer have a bargaining chip."

Gibbs smiled. "Neither will you, Kostas." Gibbs turned the package over. It had been opened so it was obvious that Sheila and her father knew what the contents were inside. He reached in and pulled out what looked to be a photo album. He watched Kostas' face as the album became visible. The man was not able to keep the blood from draining from his features. He handed his rifle to Sheila who immediately pointed it at Kostas. Gibbs shook his head and Sheila relaxed her trigger finger, barely. Gibbs opened the book and looked at the first page. He began to turn page by page, examining each page briefly. Gibbs' face broke out into a smile as he dropped the book into the lap of the pale Greek mobster.

"It seems you picked the wrong pawn, Mr. Kostas, when you picked on Naval Petty Officer Mark Richards."

Ziva looked at the open book over Kostas' shoulder. The pictures looked like they had been taken by a cheap digital camera, perhaps even a disposable kind one could buy in a discount store. But the quality did not diminish the impact of the pictures. She glanced up at Gibbs with amazement written on her face.

"Recognize any of those people, Ziva?" Gibbs asked her, all the while watching Kostas as he fingered his way through the book.

"Why, yes, I do Gibbs. Some of the people in those pictures Mosad has been after for quite some time. Pieces of garbage, most of them."

Kostas' face had gone from pale to scarlet and was edging towards purple as his body shook with rage. His anger was focused on Gibbs. He jumped from his chair before Ziva could react and grabbed Gibbs by the throat. The man pushed Gibbs with all of his might into the nearest wall. Sheila, McCord and Ziva were on him. Despite their efforts to pull him off of Gibbs, Ziva could tell that Gibbs' throat was being crushed. Suddenly, the former Mosad officer dropped her weapon and with one motion, her knee went into Kostas kidney while her right hand landed on his jugular and the left hand crunched into the middle of his back. McCord helped by swiping his rifle across the back of Kostas' knees at the same time. Kostas yelled and collapsed on the floor, leaving Gibbs to slide down the wall, gasping for air.

Ziva picked up her weapon and planted her right foot, less than gently into Kostas chest. "Are you alright, Gibbs?"

Sheila was checking on Gibbs, the tears running unstopped down her cheek. Gibbs was coming up for air just as he felt a folded piece of paper being shoved into his hands. Sheila placed both of his hands together, willing him to hide what she had just passed him. As he focused his eyes on her, he managed to nod his head, letting her know he understood.

"I'm okay, Ziva," he croaked at his agent. McCord and Sheila helped him to stand. "I'm just gonna go to the head and check the damage." He started towards the bedroom door and paused long enough to look down at Kostas who was trying to breathe through the pain. "Keep him there," Gibbs said and went on into the bedroom.

######

"Someone's coming, Ducky," McGee whispered. He moved to position himself in front of the door as it opened. The door was only opening far enough to let a person through. It was Gibbs. And he looked like hell.

"Boss!"

"Jethro? Are you all right?" Ducky was by Gibbs side, looking at the red marks across his friend's neck. Gibbs paid no attention to Ducky's attention as he opened the folded piece of paper.

"What's that?" McGee asked.

Gibbs looked at the piece of paper as he flipped it over. Nothing.

"Nothing, I guess. But Sheila wanted me to have it for some reason."

McGee reached out for the paper. "May I?"

Ducky pulled Gibbs over to the light of the lamp. Gibbs looked down at Tony who once again was looking pretty agitated from delirium. "He's worse, isn't he Ducky?" Gibbs sat down on the bed and grabbed his Senior Agent's hand. He was shocked by how warm it was.

"He's actually holding his own for now. Jethro, what's going on out there? Is that Alexander Kostas out there?"

Briefly, Gibbs filled Ducky and McGee in on what had transpired. When he got to himself being throttled by Kostas, Ducky did a quick intake and moved to get some liniment out of his kit.

"Ducky, I don't have time for that. I've got to get back out there."

"So, Richards took pictures of Kostas with…"McGee started to ask.

"With a whole bunch of people that are known for organized crime all over Europe. It seems Petty Officer Richards was a man who did not want to be held accountable to Kostas like his father-in-law."

"A very brave young man, Jethro," Ducky whispered.

"Yeah," said Gibbs. "But it got him killed." He sighed. "I'm going back out there. You guys stay put until further notice."

"Boss," McGee stopped Gibbs at the door. "Remember Abby found that invisible ink on the paper that was inside Richards' pocket?"

Gibbs turned with his hand on the bedroom door knob. "Can you make invisible ink appear, McGee."

"I'd have to know what kind of ink it is. Maybe I can reach Abby." He reached for his cell, forgetting that he no longer had his. Gibbs handed him his. "Do what you can, McGee." With that, he left, closing the door behind him. McGee looked at the signal bars on the phone. One. Was it enough to get through to Abby?


	14. Chapter 14

_2152_

As Gibbs walked back into the room he assessed the situation. He had proof that Kostas was involved in illegal activity. Although, a judge might deem the pictures strictly circumstantial since they only showed that Kostas kept peculiar company. Gibbs hoped that whatever was hidden on that "blank" piece of paper could offer concrete evidence where the pictures did not.

Ziva still had her right boot placed squarely on Kostas chest. McCord had moved Sheila over to the couch where her head was once again leaning on his shoulder. She looked utterly defeated. McCord nodded to Gibbs as if to say he would follow whatever orders he was given. In the last few hours, Gibbs had to admit he was gaining a new understanding of his former commanding officer. His respect for him was not fully restored but empathy had replaced apathy for the man and his family. Gibbs attention turned back to Kostas.

"Let him up, Ziva."

Ziva hesitated. Then she looked down menacingly on Kostas and removed her foot with a twist of the heel into his sternum. The man winced and couldn't stop himself from groaning as he got up from the floor. Gibbs couldn't help but wonder if Kostas' was losing some of his confidence. Gibbs watched as the man glanced down at his watch then proceeded to brush off his suit. As he did, the confidence and control seemed to slowly return. As Kostas reached up and straightened his tie, the man began to chuckle. It was that deep mirthless chuckle that stood the hairs up on Gibbs' neck.

"The photos mean nothing, Agent Gibbs. I must admit, I am surprised that the Petty Officer was able to capture me on film with my friends and acquaintances without my employees discovering him. But none of that matters. That photo album is not enough to condemn move or prove anything about me."

Gibbs smiled. "You were expecting something else in that package, Kostas. Apparently, Richards got rid of the original package you wanted delivered." A thought crossed Gibbs' mind. He nodded at Ziva. "Ziva, let's look a little closer at those photos." Ziva moved to pick up the photo album from the floor where it had fallen from Kostas' lap. She handed it to Gibbs. Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw Kostas look at his watch again.

"You expecting company, Kostas?" Gibbs asked He then motioned for Kostas to move to the door. Ziva pushed Kostas from behind. "Hold him there, Agent David. If anyone comes through that door, the first person they will fire on will be their boss." Then he added, "or his father." A low animal like growl came from Kostas as he felt Ziva's rifle pushing into his back. He faced the door as Gibbs browsed through the pictures in the book. Gibbs' search stopped near the back. He had found the picture he was looking for. His face tensed as he put a name with the face of the person who sat at a street café in D.C. The faint shape of the capitol dome could be seen in the left side of the picture. There was a picture of the same man on the wall at NCIS headquarters. It was no wonder that Mark Richards was murdered. He had stepped into the middle of an Al-Qaeda operation.

########

McGee looked up Abby's number in Gibbs' contact list. At first he was confused because he didn't find Abby's name. Then he recognized it under Abbslab, finally translating it correctly to Abb's Lab. He punched 'call' and prayed that the signal was enough to get through.

After 5 rings, McGee began to lose hope. Then he heard the click that meant someone was picking up the call.

"Gibbs?" Abby's voice was froggier than usual as she squeaked out her boss's name.

McGee smiled in relief. "Abby, it's me."

"Oh, Timmy, it's so good to hear your voice." McGee recognized the sound of someone snoring coming through the phone as well. "Abby, are you at home?" McGee asked, slightly embarrassed at asking the question. She must have had someone over to keep her company.

Abby was trying to clear her throat. "No, McGee. I'm at the lab. I just dozed off when you called." McGee heard her trying to suppress a yawn.

McGee couldn't stop himself. "Who's that snoring then?"

"Oh. That's Jimmy. McGee, enough already? What's going on? Is everyone okay? How's Tony? Is Gibbs and Ziva…"

McGee interrupted. He'd have to ask her about Palmer later. "Abby, I haven't got a lot of time. Just know that everyone is okay for the moment."

Abby sighed. "Okay, Timmy. What do you need?"

McGee frowned knowing how hard it was for Abby to be kept in the dark. But he knew he could count on her professional side coming out despite her heart breaking for her friends. "I need to know about the ink you found on that piece of paper that Richards had in his pocket. You said it was disappearing ink? Or was it invisible?"

Abby yawned again. "It was invisible ink. I thought it was disappearing but just for the heck of it I rechecked it and it was invisible ink. There's quite a difference you know. I used to make it myself when I was a kid…."

"Abby, I need to know how to make invisible ink reappear," McGee said.

"Any invisible ink, Tim or the kind that Richards used?" Abby asked.

McGee sighed, "The kind that Richards had, Abby."

"That's easy. You'll need some manganese sulfate, ammonia…"

"Abby," McGee interrupted. "We're limited here on what we have available."

There was a moment of silence and McGee could almost hear the forensic specialist's mind working. Then Abby almost shouted through the phone. "McGee! Ducky has his medical kit, right?" McGee affirmed her question and then she said, "Hydrogen peroxide!" McGee was confused and then quietly repeated "hydrogen peroxide" to Ducky. Ducky nodded and then quickly went to his med kit. Pulling out a small round bottle, he took the sheet of paper from McGee and went into the bathroom. McGee followed him all the while listening to Abby's excited explanation of what to do. Ducky was pulling out drawers. He mumbled something about "everyone has these in their bathroom" and then said "Aha" upon pulling out the last drawer in the vanity.

"Did I mention that cotton swabs have been one of the best inventions of our time, Timothy?" McGee followed Ducky back into the bedroom and watched as the doctor proceeded to lay out the piece of stationary on the dresser. He dipped one of the cotton swabs into the peroxide and then gently stroked it horizontally across the sheet of paper.

"Uh, Ducky, do you know what you're doing?" asked McGee.

"My dear man, are you forgetting my background?" Ducky sniffed. "During my stint with the British police I learned a thing or two. Not to mention working beside Jethro and Ms. Shepard in France." He broke off his lecture as he finished his work on the paper.

As the two men watched, ever so slowly, orange script began to appear.

"Abby, it's working, "said McGee into the phone.

"Of course it is, McGee. What's it say?"

McGee squinted over Ducky's shoulder. "It's not clear yet. I've got to go Abby. I'll call you again as soon as I can."

McGee heard Abby's deep sigh. "Come home safe, Tim. Bring everyone home, please?" McGee hated to hear the worry in Abby's voice, mainly because there wasn't anything he could say to allay her fears. So he said the only thing he could. "I will, Abby. We'll all be out of here soon." He hit the 'end' button and turned back to look at Ducky's work.

"Oh my," Ducky whispered. The doctor picked up the piece of paper and handed it to McGee, watching his face as the agent read the message. McGee looked up at Ducky. "Gibbs needs to see this," McGee whispered.

"Yes, my boy," Ducky said as he replaced the cap on the peroxide bottle. "The time for you to sit this one out is over."


	15. Chapter 15

**_Aaggh, reloading after I messed up the time. Again, thanks for you patience! Hoping to get another chapter done tonight._**

_2205 hours _

"Boss, I think you need to see this."

Gibbs turned at the sound of McGee's voice. He managed to conceal his concern as Tim hobbled towards him. As he took the piece of paper from McGee's outstretched hand he quietly said, "This had better be worth you coming out here on that bum leg."

Tim grimaced at his leader and then stared at the man being held at gunpoint by Ziva. Relishing in the man's look of surprise at his appearance, McGee said, "Oh, it's worth it, Boss."

Gibbs read the words that had been revealed on the piece of Turkish stationary. "What does it say, Gibbs," Ziva asked as she gently reminded Kostas of his precarious position with the tip of the rifle she was holding.

Gibbs looked at Sheila Richards. "This was written by Mark."

She knew Gibbs was asking her permission to read the note aloud. "Go ahead," she said, bracing herself for the raw emotion that would hit as her husband's words were read.

"_If you are reading this, Sheila, you'll have figured out my trick with the ink. I tried to get out of this but I was more afraid what would happen to you or our son than to me. I just couldn't go through with it. Hopefully they'll come after me and leave my family alone. I was supposed to deliver a package to a man in D.C. without knowing the contents. Well, I read it. A man named Alexander Kostas has dealings with Al-Qaeda . They have planned an attack on the British embassy in D.C. on November 22. Kostas wants the Greek ambassador who is visiting that day killed. Al-Qaeda sees it as a way of stirring things up with the U.S. and Britain. Kostas and Al-Qaeda both win if the bomb goes off. If you can, please get this message to someone high up. I didn't sign up to serve my country and ignore something like this. I hope you understand. Forgive me. Take care of our son and tell your father, I understand. Love you always , my angel of mercy. Mark." _

Gibbs walked over to Sheila who had her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking as the tears ran unchecked down her face and through her fingers. Calvin McCord 's arms were embracing her as the anguish tore through her. Gibbs knelt in front of her, gently reached up and pulled her right hand down and placed the piece of paper in it. Sheila looked up and her eyes met his. "I know this is little consolation but you can be proud of your husband, Sheila," Gibbs whispered. His voice was raspy with his own checked emotions. Suddenly, Sheila reached out and grabbed Gibbs in a shaky hug. "Thank you," she whispered back.

Gibbs stood and nodded at his former C.O. The men silently understood each other. Then, Gibbs' attention was drawn to Kostas who was once more looking at his watch.

"What's going to happen tonight, Kostas?" Gibbs asked.

A flash of surprise crossed the Greek's face but disappeared just as quickly. He smirked at Gibbs. "What makes you think something is supposed to happen tonight. The package was not delivered. The plan is off. I'm just concerned that my men out there are cold and are getting, how do you say, 'buggy'."

"I believe you mean 'antsy'," snapped Ziva.

Gibbs looked at his watch. "McGee, give me my cell phone." He turned to take the phone from his agent and saw that the color was once again drained from Tim's face. "And sit down," Gibbs said as he gently pushed McGee down into the nearest chair. He turned to Ziva still poised with her rifle on Kostas. Gibbs motioned for her to sit her captive down on the couch. "Check the weather," he said after Kostas was seated. Ziva backed up to look out the front window. "There are a few inches of snow on the ground but it looks like it has stopped coming down."

Gibbs nodded and then turned to Sheila. "Would you mind checking in with Ducky and getting a report on Tony for me?" Sheila nodded and left for the bedroom.

"So your agents managed to survive that awful crash down the mountain, Agent Gibbs." Kostas was grinning and McCord didn't like it. He moved directly in front of Kostas and grumbled, "Barely, but you may still be up for murder if that agent in there dies before help arrives."

Gibbs spoke into the phone. "Director Vance. Can you hear me? There's going to be an attack tonight and I believe it's going to be the British Embassy." A pause. "No, I don't have an exact time yet. But I'm thinking it will be within the next 50 minutes." Pause again. "You got anybody coming in here yet? Two of my agents are in need of medical attention, one is critical." Gibbs listened again and then ended the call. "Vance said our back up should be here any minute in humvees. They'll send the chopper back as soon as the wind allows it."

"Too bad it will be too late."

Kostas gave up his charade. His voice had taken on a new and deeper menacing tone. "You are a very smart man, Agent Gibbs. But your man will deliver the message too late. The bomb will go off in less than 20 minutes. It will not be the same effect we wanted if the message had been delivered but it will do some damage."

Ziva stared at Gibbs. "If Richards didn't deliver the package…?" she started.

"Then Al-Qaeda would go ahead and attack the embassy tonight, without the presence of the Greek ambassador," finished Gibbs. Only Al-Qaeda wins tonight if that bomb goes off."

McCord shook his head. "I don't get it, Kostas. Why didn't you just deliver the message yourself? Have your Al-Qaeda buddies wait until the 22nd?"

"Too risky," Gibbs said. "I have a feeling the name Alexander Kostas is on the FBI and Homeland Security watch lists and he didn't want any hint of a connection to the cell group." Gibbs glanced at the photo album provided by the late Petty Officer. "Now we have proof."

Kostas blew out a theatrical sigh. "Those photos mean nothing. And now that I cannot be connected to tonight's attack, I will carry on. Ah, to live another day and find another way to have my wishes fulfilled."

"What makes you think spilling your guts to us means nothing," McCord demanded. And once more, Kostas glanced at his watch, this time with a maniacal grin on his face. Gibbs looked at the clock of his cell phone. _10:29.30. _Damn it. His gut was chewing him out. The men outside were waiting to storm in if they hadn't heard from their boss by a certain time: 10:30. Just as Kostas threw himself to the floor, Gibbs yelled, "Everybody down!"

##############

_2227 hours_

"What's going on out there, my dear," Ducky asked Sheila as she came in the bedroom. Ducky then stopped when he saw Sheila's red and swollen eyes and saw the piece of paper she had gripped in her hand. The doctor moved from Tony's side and came to hold Sheila at arm's length. "Are you all right?" he asked her gently.

She managed a smile at the kind doctor. "No, I'm not. Not right now." And then she sighed. "But I will be." She accepted his brief hug. "How's Agent Dinozzo?" she asked as she pulled away. "Agent Gibbs wants an update on his condition. Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

Ducky sighed. "I'm afraid we've done all we can. I only wish the rest of the cavalry would get here."

Just then Tony stirred and his eyes flew open. Before Ducky and Sheila could react, Tony was sitting up and attempting to get out of the bed. They both moved quickly to either side of him, gently pushing him back down.

"Anthony! You must lie down."

Tony tried to push Ducky and Sheila away. "I've got to get help. They're coming after us…"

Ducky looked in horror as they managed to get the delirious patient back down on his pillows. Blood was soaking the bandages more rapidly it seemed than before.

"I'm afraid he's managed to tear open my handiwork," Ducky grumbled. "Sheila, please come here and apply as much pressure as you can to this wound."

Sheila grabbed a discarded towel from the bedside table. Placing the towel onto Tony's shoulder, she pushed down with one hand, while sliding her other hand under Tony's back. There was no cry of pain as Tony had passed out, oblivious to the pressure being applied. Ducky quickly rummaged through his med kit, setting up to re-suture Tony's injury. Just as Sheila was about to ask for another towel, they heard Gibbs yell from the front room, "Everybody, get down!"


	16. Chapter 16

_2230 Hours_

Gibbs saw Ziva hit the ground as the first round of bullets ripped through the front windows. Out of the corner of his eye he saw McGee fall painfully to the floor. He heard McCord swear as he ducked for cover against the wall under the nearest window. Kostas was prone with his arms thrown protectively over his head.

In the bedroom, Sheila and Ducky instinctively leaned over Tony, even though the back of the house seemed to be absent from attack. Suddenly, Sheila's face paled. "My baby," she cried. She let go of Tony and ran towards the bedroom door. "Wait!" Ducky cried as he heard another round of shots from the front of the McCord's house. His shout did not stop her. Tony groaned and Ducky grabbed two more clean towels and returned to Tony's shoulder.

Ziva was making her way to the window on the other side of the front door. Just as the door seemed to be disintegrating from rapid gunshots, Gibbs crawled over to McCord's left side. As they checked their weapons, both men looked up to see Sheila McCord running headlong toward the staircase.

"Sheila!" McCord yelled and tackled his daughter, while bullets sailed overhead. She was hysterical as she tried desperately to pull away from her father. "The baby, Dad! I have to get to Calvin!"

"It's too dangerous," McCord cried.

"We'll cover you!" Gibbs yelled at McCord. He nodded at Ziva as McGee made his way over beside her. He raised his hand and started counting with his fingers; one, two, three. The three agents, reached over their heads, broke the glass immediately above their heads and started returning fire. McCord grabbed Sheila and together they ran to the stairway, crawling up the steps as fast as they could. The baby was crying, awakened by the terrifying noise. Just as they got to the top of the stairs, McCord felt a bullet hit him just above the kneecap, but managed to keep going. As he cried out, Sheila turned. "Dad?" McCord waved her on and he joined her as they barreled through the bedroom door, slamming it behind them.

"Cease fire!" Gibbs yelled. A deafening silence fell and the only thing that could be heard was the agents trying to catch their breath. And then a deep, evil laugh came from the direction of the prone Kostas. "Now, you will all die."

Just as Gibbs risked a glance out of the window, he caught a flash of something coming at the window by Ziva and McGee. "Ziva!" Gibbs yelled as he watched two men come flying through the remainder of the front window. A split second later, what was left of the front door splintered and another man charged at Gibbs. As he fought his attacker, Gibbs was vaguely aware of two gunshots erupting from across the room. His attacker went straight for the rifle that Gibbs was holding, jamming it into the floor and holding it down with his foot and kicking Gibbs in the jaw with his other foot. As his vision reeled with flashes of light, the pain pushed Gibbs to keep fighting. As the attacker brought his foot back for another kick, Gibbs grabbed it and pulled. The man lost his balance and slammed down hard. Another gun shot rang out and Ziva was calling his name. McGee was shouting, "I'm okay, help Gibbs!"

"Hold it right there, Agent David." It was Kostas. He had picked up the rifle and was pointing it at Gibbs left temple. "You wouldn't want to be responsible for the death of your brave leader."

Gibbs managed to look at his two Agents. McGee was down and holding on to his leg while holding his weapon on one of the attackers. He was still alive but wounded. Next to him lay one of the window jumpers, obviously dead. Ziva was standing two feet from Kostas pointing her rifle squarely at the head of Gibbs' attacker, lying in front of her. Ziva caught her breath and said, "You shoot Gibbs, I shoot your friend here, you shoot me and McGee will shoot you. No one wins."

Kostas looked at the young man under Ziva's gun sight. "That is my son, Ms. David. If you shoot him, you will surely die before I shoot Gibbs."

Gibbs cleared his throat. Blood was seeping from his lip and right eyebrow. He was trying to focus but the kick to his head was making it difficult. He decided to go for inciting the Greek's anger again. It was risky but he had his team to think about. Someone had to make it out of here alive.

"Ziva, kill the bastard's son."

Ziva cocked the rifle. At the sound, Kostas yelled in rage, kicking Ziva's rifle out of her hands and knocking her off balance. The man McGee was guarding, grabbed McGee's rifle and McGee fired. In the same instant, Demas Kostas rolled towards Gibbs, grabbed him by the head and started banging it into the floor.

_Crack!_

The younger Kostas went suddenly limp and fell on top of Gibbs. As Gibbs weakly pushed the man from on top of him, the older Kostas emitted a cry that made Gibbs' gut roll. It was the sound of a parent who had just seen his own son killed before his eyes. "Demas! My son!" Kostas let the rifle he was holding fall to the ground as he grabbed his son's body and wailed. Ziva, McGee and Gibbs turned in the direction of where the gunshot had come, towards the bedroom door.

Ducky stood motionless, still holding the gun that he had used to shoot and kill Gibbs' attacker.

Gibbs was the first to move. He struggled to his feet, waited for the dizziness to pass, and then stumbled towards his friend.

"Ziva, watch him," Gibbs pointed towards the grieving Kostas. "Duck." There was no response as Ducky stared at the grieving father. Gibbs reached out and took the gun from Ducky's shaking hands. After a long pause, the doctor turned and looked at Gibbs. In a shaky voice that matched his shaking hands, Ducky finally said "I had to do something Jethro. The rest of your team seemed to be preoccupied."

Suddenly, the walls of the living room were lit up by approaching headlights. The sound of humvees, doors opening and closing, and shouts could be heard as armed Marines made their way into the house. In the midst of them, decked out in full protective gear was Director Leon Vance. The director stopped as he took in the damaged house and the dead and injured.

"Glad you could make it, Leon," Gibbs said.

They turned at the sound of an upstairs bedroom door opening and out stepped Sheila Richards. She was holding the baby and at the same time trying to support her father who was sporting a makeshift tourniquet on his left leg. Her eyes met Gibbs'. "Is it over?" she asked. Gibbs nodded. Ziva moved up the stairs. "Let me help you, Colonel," she offered. McCord leaned his weight on her as they made their way down the stairs.

"Get those medics in here, on the double," Vance directed the Marine closest to him. The man took off to follow his orders, returning in a few minutes with 4 paramedics in tow. "I need two of you back here with me," Ducky ordered. Two of them broke off to follow him into the bedroom while the other two attended to McGee and the Colonel.

Gibbs and Vance looked at Alexander Kostas. He was still clinging to his dead son. With an effort, he gently laid his son's body aside and stood up. Two Marines standing beside him tensed and held their weapons at the ready. Kostas faced Gibbs and Vance. The veins in his necks pulsed. He spoke with an intensity that seethed with hatred and loathing. "You may have killed my son, but you were not able to stop the destruction of the British embassy. I take some solace in knowing that the United States and its inferior government policing agencies are incompetent to stand against the power of those who fight against your military and political narcissism."

"Wow," muttered Gibbs. "That was a mouthful."

Vance stepped between Gibbs and Kostas. "For your information, the FBI was able to stop the attack on the embassy." He watched as the announcement punched the air out of the man. "I was contacted just before we arrived that the terrorist cell you were working with has been killed or captured. Apparently, Homeland Security had received a tip that an attack was eminent. They were prepared." Vance nodded at the two Marines, and they each grabbed an arm and escorted Kostas out of the house.

"Where's DiNozzo?" Vance asked. "Back here," Gibbs said and headed for the bedroom. Vance steadied the senior agent as a wave of dizziness made him stumble. "It looks like David is the only one to come out of this without a scratch," Vance quipped. The two men stopped dead in their tracks as they watched the paramedics and Ducky performing CPR on Tony. Vance grabbed his radio. "Where is that chopper?" He was answered with static. "I'm going outside. Keep me posted."

Gibbs slowly made his way closer to the bed. Seeing him, Ducky cut him off and guided him to a chair. "You'll be more help out of the way, Jethro." As he started to turn back, Gibbs grabbed Ducky's hand. "He's going to make it, isn't he, Duck?"


	17. Chapter 17

Gibbs turned from the scene of Tony being worked on when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Ziva. She stared as the paramedics fought to get Tony's heart going again. Gibbs, seeking comfort, grabbed her hand. She didn't resist Gibbs' grasp and squeezed in response.

"Sheila and her father are being transferred to Washington by humvee. McCord's injury was minor. The medics seem to think McGee should wait for the helicopter as well." Ziva mechanically gave her report. She and Gibbs watched silently as the minutes seemed to drag on and they lost count of the number of times the defibrillator was placed on Tony's chest, and the number of times his body jumped and the number of times a voice said, "No response, hit him again."

"Wait!" It was Ducky calling out. "He's back. Where is that damn helicopter?"

"It's enroute." Ziva jumped at the voice beside her. She had not been aware of Director Vance's approach. "She'll be here in less than five." A paramedic brushed by Vance and knelt in front of Gibbs. Gibbs tried to wave him off but Vance insisted he get checked. Gibbs gave in and while the paramedic flashed a light in his eyes, treated his cuts to his face, his gaze never left Tony. By the time the medic was through, Gibbs could hear the rotors of the helo coming to rest outside the house.

There was a flurry of movement as a stretcher appeared, Tony was loaded on it, and medics and doctor were gathering equipment and preparing Tony for the flight. "Director Vance, could you please alert Bethesda that we'll need a surgeon standing by along with a good supply of O negative blood from the blood bank."

Ducky stopped for a moment in front of Gibbs. "To answer your question, Jethro, yes, I believe Tony will make it. Come now. Let's get you all out of here."

########

The flight back to D.C. was uneventful. Tony seemed to be holding his own. McGee was in pain but refused to show it. Every now and then, Ziva would look over at him and ask him if he was okay. Then she would look at Gibbs. She didn't ask him if he was okay, but Gibbs was able to read her face. Ziva was reliving the nightmare of Michael dying. Only this time, it was Tony. Despite what had happened between her and Tony in the past, it was no secret to anyone that she really did care for him. As they all did. Gibbs watched as McGee jumped whenever a medic or Ducky leaned too quickly in to attend to Tony. Despite the constant teasing and bickering, McGee and Tony had a bond. Possibly an even deeper one after the events of today. And Gibbs. The thought of losing Tony was like the thought of losing another family member. A son. He just wasn't ready for that.

########

_0430 hours _

"Gibbs! Ziva!

Abby Scioto rushed into the surgery waiting area. Gibbs stood up and threw his arms around her as Ziva sat up on the couch where she had been dozing. Abby looked terrible. Her pigtails were down and her make-up was beyond smeared. Tears were once again streaming down her face but she had a big smile as she jabbered about how worried she had been and then so thankful when she got the call from Director Vance that everyone was back. Jimmy Palmer stood back and watched the reunion. He wasn't sure how to say how glad he was to see at least half of the team. So he simply sat down next to Ziva and smiled his lopsided grin and asked her how she was doing. Before she could respond, Abby swooped down on Ziva and pulled her into a tight hug. Gibbs walked over to Palmer and shook his hand. "Thanks for watching out for Abby, Palmer." Jimmy just nodded, embarrassed by Gibbs' compliment.

Abby sat on the other side of Ziva. "So, what's the scoop. Tony's still in surgery, I'm guessing. But what about Timmy? Is he going to be okay? The Director said his leg was pretty messed up. Where is he? Does he have to have surgery?"

"Abby, slow down," Gibbs said. "Tony is still in surgery. Ducky's with McGee. He said he'd meet us up here."

"And here we are." They looked up as Ducky entered the waiting room, pushing McGee in a wheelchair. McGee's leg was propped up and in an air cast. Abby ran over, kissing Ducky on the cheek and throwing her arms around Tim's neck. He grimaced but bit his tongue. There was nothing better than a welcome home hug from Abby Scioto.

Gibbs looked at McGee's leg and then raised his eyebrows in a question at Ducky.

"It's a miracle, after all this young man went through. It's a clean break. No need for surgery. However, they can't cast it until the swelling goes down. "

McGee sighed. "They want me to stay here until that can be done. They seem to think I won't stay off of it."

Silence took over while everyone's thoughts returned to Tony. Ducky looked at his watch. Gibbs turned back to the coffee machine. Abby pushed McGee's wheelchair over beside the couch and then settled in between Ziva and Palmer. Thirty minutes later, a doctor, clad in surgeon's scrubs entered the waiting area. All eyes turned towards him.

"I take it you are all here for Anthony DiNozzo?" he asked. Gibbs said, "Yes, we are."

The doctor sighed. "He's going to do just fine. The amount of blood loss and infection had us going there, but he'll pull through. Now, you all look like you could get some rest. Go home and come back tomorrow. Make that late afternoon."

Everyone started talking at once. Everyone, but Gibbs. He looked down at his coffee cup and for the first time in hours, relaxed and smiled. Abby announced that she and Palmer would drive Ziva home after they got McGee settled in his room. Ducky watched them go then turned to Gibbs.

"Well, Jethro. Can I give you a lift?"

Gibbs tossed his empty cup into the nearby trash can. He shook his head. "I think I'll stay here. I want to be here when Tony wakes up."

"Ah, I see." Ducky watched as Gibbs made his way to the couch and stretched out. Without a word, Ducky sat down in the overstuffed chair next to the couch and pulled the ottoman close enough to stretch out on. As he settled down, Ducky let out a deep sigh.

"You okay, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"I was just thinking. Today, I took a man's life. It's a bit unsettling that I was forced to make that choice. Especially with the man's father in the same room."

Gibbs said nothing. He knew that what Ducky had done had saved his life and probably the lives of Ziva, Tim and Tony. Not to mention Sheila and Calvin Richards and Colonel Calvin McCord. He didn't want to say anything that would belittle that life-changing decision. Gibbs hoped that his friend would never be faced with that decision again. Just as he was about to doze off Gibbs heard Ducky clear his throat.

"It was a choice I won't regret." Silence.

Gibbs whispered, "Me neither, Ducky."

_**The end**_

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_**Thank you to all for reading. This was my first completed fanfic and you were all so awesome!**_


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